Dark Creatures
by Emosrockhard
Summary: At the cost of his human "purity", Harry becomes an important member of the Order. Vampires, veelas, werwolves and possibly other creatures. Rated for some blood, some gore, some language, and some sexual content.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**THIS WAS ADOPTED FROM VICTORULES!**

AN: This is my first work of fiction so I would ask of you to review!

15 year-old Harry Potter was running as fast as his legs could carry him, quite a feat, given how soundly his body had been trashed while fighting a group of Death Eaters in the Ministry of Magic's Department of Mysteries, with bruises and cuts all over, and completely out of breath.

He was chasing the sound of an insane laughter and ignoring the cries for him to stop coming from behind, his breathing ragged, his body drenched in sweat, hair sticking to his forehead, limbs heavy and with a curious pain you might feel if stabbed on the side. Harry noticed none of these things.

"I killed Sirius Black! I killed Sirius Black!" the singsong voice came from somewhere in front of him, and he looked up, and found himself staring at the retreating back of his merrily skipping target, his godfather's murderer, cousin and soon-to-be victim of his wrath, barely registering the fact that they were back in the Atrium headed towards the main exit of the Ministry.

Lifting his arm and aiming wildly he yelled the one curse in his mind, "Crucio!" .The beam of light shot out of his wand and connected with the woman's back, sending her crashing to the floor with a surprised yelp of pain. However, the shrieks of pain and agonized spasms Harry hoped for didn't come, only a muffled curse as her face hit the floor.

Paying no mind to anything around him but the woman he wanted dead in front of him, he walked over until she was lying at his feet. With his wand still trained on the back of her head, he asked coldly "Why aren´t you screaming?"

The woman turned around before replying, and Harry was pleased to see a small rivulet of blood running from her nose and down to her chin; he only wished there was more.

With a really annoying, if not a bit taunting voice, Bellatrix Lestrange responded "Has the great Harry Potter never cast an unforgivable curse before?" Her tone dropped all playfulness and an insane light filled her eyes, "You have to mean it boy! Get angry! You have to feel the desire to cause pain!" putting an adoring emphasis on the word desire.

"Can´t be that hard" he muttered. A smirk slowly forming in his face, he lifted his wand, but lowered it again, "Just one more thing before we continue"

And with that, he lifted his foot and rammed it into the madwoman´s face.

She was left dizzy and disoriented as her head was crushed between the boy´s foot and the hard floor beneath her, again and again and again… and again.

Blood splattered around him and on him, but he kept going, ignoring the strangled and half formed pleas for him to stop coming from Bellatrix with blinding hatred in his eyes. She would probably be dead by now if not for the fact that he was exhausted and could not get that much strength into his legs, between which he had been switching whenever one felt too tired to continue.

When he could barely keep standing, he tried to resort to his fist. He pulled back for a moment, but a moment was all the Death Eater needed, as she rolled over, her face a mask of blood and insanity, and faster than Harry could react sent a blast of magic in his direction.

In his worn out state and such close quarters, he had no chance of dodging. He felt like he had collided with a moving vehicle and was thrown into the air.

He somehow landed on his legs, which promptly gave out below him and sent him rolling backwards. He looked up to see that Bellatrix was already up and trying to regain her bearings, shaking her head experimentally and throwing more spells his way.

All were poorly aimed and gave Harry a chance to pick himself up and respond with some attacks of his own.

Unable to so much as drop out of the way, it was a testament to her devotion that she continued to fight even as the first disarmer sent her wand and her body flying in opposite directions, rolling onto her feet and sprinting, stumbling more than a few times in the general direction of her wand, which also happened to be his direction.

Harry continued to send more spells her way, desperate to stop her from reaching her wand, and failing rather soundly as she grew steadily more balanced and raced for it.

Realizing it was a lost cause, he pushed all thoughts of fatigue aside and began running at the wooden stick halfway from the demented witch with the really bad attitude.

She reached it an instant before him, throwing herself on her knees and sliding till she caught it in her hand. Harry tried to stop running and level his wand at her, but his momentum drove him onward and he crashed into his kneeling opponent, again sending her wand spinning through the air.

Before he got up, Bellatrix jumped onto his back, and tried to wrestle his own wand from his hand, Harry held onto it firmly as her fingernails clawed at his face, and tried to roll over.

He felt her chin on the back of his head and used his elbows for support as he thrust it upward, connecting hard with her face, and made the most of her momentary weakness by throwing her off of him and rolling away, bringing his wand up.

He saw the hatred in her eyes, matched only by that reflected in his, before screaming out, "CRUCIO!"

The curse seemed to catch her in the eye, which turned as red as it could possibly go, and the screaming began.

Harry did not bother to get up, he was only concentrated on the fact that he had managed to pull off an Unforgivable on the only person he believed he would never regret it.

Of course, he was forgetting about someone at the moment, someone who was content to watch from the shadows as the events unfolded before him until he decided to intervene.

Harry´s curse stopped as his concentration was ripped from him by an intense pain exploding from the lightning shaped scar on his forehead and filling his body the moment Lord Voldemort dropped the complex array of concealing magic he had cast on himself.

With a wave of his wand, he sent his most loyal follower into one of the many fireplaces around the Atrium and her wand following after her before the woman disappeared in a flash of emerald fire.

Harry slowly recovered his awareness as the pain became tolerable and was left looking into the eyes of the madman responsible for his parents´ deaths. He was smiling down at him, in what some could mistake for pride.

He went speechless, much like every other encounter between them, he would wait for him to speak, respond, get his ass handed to him in a silver platter, and lastly, both would escape, no one wins, no one dies.

That's just the way we roll.

In a most pleasantly unexpected turn of events, however, before much else could happen, a couple of blinks and a ragged intake of breath at most, a spear of yellow light crashed into a red hexagon of light Harry did not even see Voldemort conjure, a mighty thunderclap tearing through the silent air.

Voldemort vanished from his vision just as it was filled with enough beams of light for him to think armies of witches and wizards were waging war all around him.

He turned and tried to look for the Voldemort's attacker, but explosions and flashes all over the place kept him far too distracted to concentrate on anything but himself. Harry crawled to the sides in order to get clear of the crossfire. He kept to hugging the ground for half the trip, getting up when an orange bolt missed his face by less than an inch and melted its way through the left lens of his glasses, and running for it.

Before reaching the walls, a massive explosion rocked the building, and sent pieces of debris easily bigger than him crashing everywhere. The shockwave throwing him down to all hands and knees before he could get up again and throw himself into the second nearest fireplace, the first was now housing a huge boulder.

Once he believed he was safe, he looked in the direction of Voldemort's attacker, searching for whoever was helping him cause such chaos.

It was with a great relief that he spotted Dumbledore on the opposite side of the Atrium, moving with an agility Harry found surprising for a man his age. The old man's robes flowing a few steps behind him, showing where he had been standing seconds ago, he did not even stop firing when he was spinning or maintaining a shield.

Harry ducked into his cover again to avoid a sizzling purple goo on the wall that was corroding its way towards his hiding place.

He could see Voldemort from his vantage point, and it was in that instant that he realized how Voldemort had come to be such a feared wizard.

He was a cruel, sadistic, plain evil son of a bitch, and the temperature seemed to seriously drop a few degrees whenever the man walked in the room.

Everybody knew that.

But Harry doubted many had ever seen Lord Voldemort fight like he was currently doing.

The hexagon that had blocked the first attack against him was still there, only larger, moving faster than Harry's glass assisted eye could follow, blocking everything Dumbledore sent at him, whether it be magic or a golden house elf, which was turned into as flurry of spikes and sent back for the Headmaster to dodge.

But Voldemort was far from pressed into the defensive, unleashing torrents of flame that moved and looked like they had a life of their own, and spells that tore whatever they touched out of existence in so many terrible ways.

Merely playing with the old warlock as they dueled across the Ministry's Atrium.

Taking seat once again, leaning against the wall behind his back, Harry began thinking what to do. Some stray spells still hit his cover sporadically, and he knew he could not stay in there forever.

Some in Harry's situation would not think twice before using the Floo he was already in to escape to the relative safety of their homes, some others would.

But probably none other than Harry Potter would jump out of cover and engage the seemingly indestructible wizard in combat.

That exactly is the reason Harry lifted himself from the ground and took off in a mad dash for the opposite end of the room, towards the telephone booth exit, casting a shield on himself to stop the concrete and crystal shrapnel from tearing him to pieces.

The air was filled with dust by now, but not so much that he couldn't see, so he continued on, probably unnoticed by Voldemort if the fact that he wasn't attacking him was anything to go by.

He reached the red cabin and hid behind it, taking a moment to gain his strength, before jumping away from it as if burned and firing at it.

"Bombarda!"

The spell bounced on the cabin's polished surface and exploded against the wall behind him.

Satisfied with his discovery, he quickly went inside it and left the door half-way open, took aim carefully, and began firing as many curses and hexes as fast as he possibly could, which wasn't that fast.

Voldemort sensed the attack coming from behind him moments before the first curse reached him, and leapt to the side.

For a moment, everyone was silent, Dumbledore, on the far side of the battlefield, stared at Harry, concerned and perhaps a bit reproachful, Harry stared at Voldemort, ignoring the pain on his forehead as the snake-like man stared right back into his eyes.

They all stood still for a moment, after a while, Harry begun to wonder why no one had come out of the golden elevators in such a long time to help them.

The blue arrow left a deep gash on Harry's cheek before cracking one of the glass panels behind him.

That man was FAST.

Before another attack came, Harry shut the door he was holding open and let the crescent moon-like green thing tore a deep cut into metal and crystal, before it started automatically repairing.

A small part of his mind mused over why his spell had not even left a mark when Voldemort's attacks could do such damage; the bigger part was concentrating on the enormous crack that now ran horizontally on the wall behind him, interrupted in the middle by his cover.

Shaking his head clear, he pushed the door open and began throwing cutters, bludgeoners and piercing charms at his opponent. Everything he knew and thought could kill someone, or something, in sufficient amounts.

The older wizards continued their duel, property damage increasing exponentially, as Harry took every chance he got to blast anything nasty he had ever learned at Voldemort, who seemed to find him more of an irking factor rather than an opponent worth his attention.

The only progress the made, was to discover that apparently Voldemort could not maintain more than one of his bright red hexagons, and was forced to move around more often.

It took Harry about a minute to realize his attempts to hit the Dark Lord were a bit more than useless, at which point he started to shoot more bombardas around his opponent, making the ground he was now being forced to move on all the more difficult to tread.

This seemed to work, as the Dark Lord seemed to have a bit of trouble to move around to attack both of his opponents and avoid their responses, nothing he couldn't handle of course, but he was evidently growing annoyed at a fast rate.

A few seconds later Harry, in a stroke of brilliance, reopened the door enough for him to stick his wand out and yell, "Aguamenti!"

He waved his wand in no logical pattern, splashing a great area around Voldemort, and getting quite a few drops to sprinkle on his flowing dark robes. His rival, gone impatient by frustration, paid no mind to him, not thinking ahead to see the possibilities that being covered and surrounded by a liquid gave his enemies.

Harry, of course, did.

Once he was satisfied, he dropped the spell, the stream coming from his wand leaving a trail from his position to the enormous puddle that held Voldemort at its center.

Bringing his wand down so it touched the hard tiles beneath the water, he cast a charm he had not practiced since a Charms class a couple of years ago, "Gelios!"

At once, the water around his wand's tip began to turn into ice, gaining speed at a steady rate untill it was shooting its way towards the Dark Lord.

Dumbledore had not been standing still throughout the battle, and was now perched on one of the many pillar-like spikes transfigured from walls or floor that Voldemort had tried to stab him with. He realized what Harry was planning to do, and redouble his efforts to keep Voldemort's attention focused on himself. His wand a blur as he moved at such speeds that the beams of light bursting forth from his wands tip could be confused with a single, continuous tendril of magic slashing and striking at that persistent little geometric shield.

He really needed to know how to conjure that thing.

The ice was slowly gaining speed, moving at a slow crawl at first, but steadily accelerating as Harry pumped more magic into his charm. Turning the air in immediate contact with the water on the floor into a thick white mist.

Voldemort did not notice the attack coming until he almost lost his footing as the hem of his robes was frozen, effectively pinning him down. He let out an insane scream as he almost fell over and Dumbledore's onslaught continued to pound his shields.

Harry was spared a moment of triumph as he believed the Dark Lord defeated, he was being stupid, of course, as if a wizard like that could be brought down with something you learned in third grade charms class.

His eyes flashed bright crimson and with an earsplitting shriek, the Dark Lord rose to his full height, ice and glass shattering as far as anyone could see.

Harry threw himself to the ground, landing on his side, and covered his face with his arms as every panel around his burst into deadly shards and were directed at him, the larger ones being blocked by his hastily conjured shield, the smaller ones driving themselves into his flesh.

Pain seared through his body, blood from God knows how many little wounds slowly crawled to soak his entire form, and the most evil and feared wizard he had ever heard of blasted the Headmaster further away and turned to point his wand at him.

Bottom line, it didn't look that good for him.

Harry pulled some of the more painful crystals from him, his arms felt as if they were on fire as he pushed himself up, only to stare at the Dark Lord's face.

Gone was the cold smirk he usually wore to battle, replaced by a look that promised nothing but a most painful demise to anyone it was directed at.

Fire began to slowly pour down to the ground from his wand's tip as it was raised at him, boiling the once neat and elegant floor, and Harry reacted an instant before he knew what was going to happen.

The small glass squares of the phone cabin were already fully repaired, but somehow Harry doubted they would be enough to stop Voldemort's next attack; he properly raised a shield and focused with all the mental strength he could muster to separate the flow of magic sustaining it from his wand so that he cast something else before it came crashing down.

He slammed the door shut and cried out "Aguamenti!", he felt his shield disappear as the water burst hit the roof of his small shelter.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, and almost panicking as he glimpsed the small mass of hell the Dark Lord had already conjured, he raised his shield once more and desperately focused on what he believed to be the key to multiple-casting.

A moment passed before Voldemort became satisfied with his magic and with one last look at the boy's face, threw the most powerful spell he had cast on someone since returning to his body, contemplating for a second or two how the fire looked more like orange and yellow goo than actual fire.

It was a nightmare being in that compact little space while struggling for your life as the glass around Harry began to melt and the unbelievable heat suffocated him.

Moments went by until the Dark Lord deemed his assault sufficient, the lava like substance disappearing and leaving behind the crumpled form of Harry Potter surrounded in a cage of half-liquefied metal bars.

He was quite surprised there had been anything left after that kind of magic, at least it looked like the once red telephone booth had finally been put down for good, he could almost feel the spark of magic in it die as every charm and ward placed on it was exhausted out of existence. Almost.

He was outright shocked as the boy flew up fast as a bullet and threw a spell straight at his face.

Not shocked enough as to not react however.

Harry knew he had been defeated as his last stunner was deflected and he was pulled onward and upward by a scorching hot whip that embedded itself right in the middle of his chest.

His glasses had been lost somewhere during the fight after Dumbledore had been last pushed back, but he did not need them to know he had been flying through almost the full length of the Atrium before landing in excruciating pain on the base of the golden statues, most of which were missing. Casualties from the battle, he believed.

Then there was silence, and Harry wasn't sure why. The only sounds were his accelerated breathing and his heart hammering against his chest.

He tried shaking his head clear, but all he accomplished was to make himself dizzy. He tried to roll over in order to get to his feet; but only managed the first part, sprawled facedown.

There was a throb just behind his eyes, it was making it even harder for him to concentrate, and his back was killing him as payback for landing on it.

Slowly his bearings returned to him, and the whole wrongness of the situation came along for the ride.

He never really had a chance against Voldemort. He was just a kid, trying to play with the grown-ups.

He really should have dropped the dream of having a normal life, back when he had a chance, concentrated on getting ready for the moment that had started a few minutes ago and was about to come to an end, his end. But hadn't the whole point of the DA been just that? Getting ready for the time they had to go up against someone who was really trying to kill them?

Maybe…

Maybe it hadn't been enough.

Still, he could not give up, throw himself to the ground and pray for a quick death. Sirius would never let him forget it, not to mention it would be a straightforward insult for his parents. No, if he was going down, he would at least go down in style. It's what Sirius or his father would do.

He grabbed on to the golden horse-part of the centaur to steady himself and get to his feet. Noticing on the way up that the creature's arms were missing.

An invisible force pulled him up by the ankle, he hit his head on the ground and dropped his wand as the world spun before his eyes and ended up being upside down.

He was a bit disoriented by the blow to the head, not as bad as it could have been, but still very unpleasant. Blood rushed to his head, and that was never exactly an enjoyable experience.

"Harry, Harry, Harry…" the cold voice cleared his mind faster than a bucket of water could ever hope to do. "An interesting performance to be sure, but like all good things it must now come to an end." He looked up, technically down but Harry was too busy at the moment to ponder for long, the man standing upside down in front of him was getting impatient, and if he wanted to survive this, he was going to have to get creative.

He spotted the centaur's bow and arrow lying on the floor a few feet behind Voldemort, and a plan immediately began formulating in his mind.

Only one of his ankles was being held in place by whatever magic Voldemort had used on him. His other leg was just dangling there, ready and waiting. His fingertips were brushing the dust off the floor, his wand an inch from them. All he had to do now was wait for the right moment, then move as fast as he could imagine moving.

The moment came as Voldemort closed his eyes to shake his head condescendingly before starting another small speech.

He swung his leg downwards, aimed at the Dark Lord and in another quick motion grabbed his wand, pointed it at the centaur's weapons and yelled "Accio!"

Voldemort sidestepped the kick to his head, blasted the speeding arrow away from him, and sent a Cruciatus his way before Harry was even through with his motions.

The pain was unbelievable, it it vanished all trace of thought from his brain and coupled with his dizziness, made him forget which way was up or down, where was he standing, and all else but who he was.

It ended, as soon as it had started, and he was left like a dying fish, weak spasms racking through his aching body every second or two.

Voldemort wasted no more time in, he had an irritated expression his face, probably because he wasn't going to get time to brag before killing him. Because he was going to kill him.

That truth hit Harry deeply, he was about to die; Dumbledore was nowhere to be seen, and he was out of ideas. Not to mention far too tired to actually carry any one of them out.

Where the hell was Dumbledore?

It had been a while since he had last seen the Headmaster, was the old man getting a cup of coffee or what?

Apparently he was alone, but not for long. Soon he would get reunited with his parents, and Sirius. Someone else could take care of Voldemort for him, right? He had done much more than many who had dedicated their lives to fighting evil, and he had finally earned his vacation.

He wondered what the afterlife was like, he hoped it would be somewhere sunny, out in the country, where he could see the stars at night. His family would be there, where else could they go after all. Sounded like a nice place. Suddenly he was longing for it, and hating Voldemort even more for making him wait.

He opened his eyes again, not remembering when had he closed them,.

The world was right side up again, and he was looking at the Dark Lord, who had his wand trained on him, making him float a few feet from the ground. He could hear the faint flip-flap his blood was making as drops slipped from his fingers, and landed in the small puddles forming below.

He was still thinking about his parents, and what an emotional reunion it would be when they met up with Sirius and him. He did not care about the green glow that emanated from the wand pointed at his face. He didn't care about toe Dark Lord's muttered 'goodbye Harry Potter'.

He closed his eyes again, and became more than a bit confused when the world exploded in pain around him with an eardrum-shattering metallic clang.


	2. Chapter 2

He let out a pained grunt as he landed hard on his back.

Struggling with the heaviness in his brain, he tried to reassess his current condition.

He was still in pain, he was cold, hungry, and kind of sleepy. There were some explosions and crashes coming from somewhere in the distance. It seemed his Headmaster had finally decided to intervene in the fight.

He opened one of his lead-heavy eyelids, the other one was refusing to follow his mental commands, and looked around.

All he could see was the ceiling, not very helpful.

Harry's attempt to stand up was crushed by the pain that once again flared on almost every part of his body. Carefully lifting his head ,he saw the bloody mess that was his body; his clothes were completely shredded, and underneath he could see his skin was filled with large cuts or gashes (the only exception miraculously being his boxer region), there was a scorched hole on his chest and his left eye was covered in something sticky which prevented him from opening it, and of course it looked like he had been spray painted in blood, most likely his own.

Deciding not to increase the already tremendous pain all around his body, he used his arms and legs to drag himself on his back closer to the wall to get a better glimpse at the fight that taking place halfway across the Atrium.

It was a relatively easy task, dragging himself, but it didn't mean it was a short trip, or a painless one. The many cuts all over him stretched with every movement, and the ones on his back were scraped against the floor.

He was becoming weaker and weaker by the second, and he probably had lost a lot of blood, if the red trail he was leaving behind him was anything to go by, because his brain was getting really dazed and his vision was becoming all blurry.

His sleep-deprived brain was beginning to shut down, and his body was aching far too much for him to keep forcing it. The floor beneath him didn't seem that uncomfortable any longer, and he was seriously considering taking a nap right then and there.

Harry closed his eyes and gave in to the exhaustion on the cold stone tiles, trying to relax his tense muscles. After about half a minute he was comfortable enough and promptly fell asleep.

Albus Dumbledore was in the middle of a duel with his ex-student Tom Riddle, now better known as Lord Voldemort or the Dark Lord, the latter mostly by his followers, while he contemplated how he had found himself in the current situation as his phoenix took a killing curse for him, bursting in flames and landing as a featherless tiny bird on the floor, a few feet from him.

Even as his battle grew in intensity, his mind did a quick recap of recent events,

The moment he had shown up at the ministry, the battle had seemingly been won for his side, however, although all but one of the Death Eaters had been captured, killing Sirius Black had proven to be an intelligent tactic by Bellatrix, as she had managed to lure Harry away from the Order of the Phoenix reinforcements.

He very much doubted that the boy had noticed there was only one functioning elevator when he had been chasing after his godfather's killer, along with the anti-apparition wards in the Department of Mysteries, effectively preventing any aid from reaching him for some time.

He had been furious for a time, showing his impatience for the first time in months, would it be possible for someone to develop a slower means of vertical transportation?He silently wondered as he waited before the golden gates of the elevator shaft. He had gotten in and immediately pressed the right button that would take him to the topmost level of the Ministry, and waited for what seemed like hours as the elevator slowly made its way up. When he saw Harry Potter, lying on the floor, Lord Voldemort standing next to his prone form, he had panicked.

He had moved far too fast for his body not to protest, he was fast after all, but it wasn't that kind on his aged body to take himself to his limits. At least the boy was saved, and as he saw his run for the fireplaces Dumbledore let out a sigh of relief.

How was he supposed to know that the kid was going to re-enter the fight?

It had been surprising the way Harry fought, flanking their mutual opponent and taking opportunist shots instead of properly dueling him. Poking and prodding at Tom's defenses. And the idea to attack the ground surrounding Voldemort had not even come to him by the time Harry's exploding curses had drawn his attention.

If they survived that, he had decided, he would have to give Harry some kind of reward for his quick and inventive fighting.

The Dark Lord apparently noticed it as well, as Harry almost made the man fall on his face. He had never seen such fury in Riddle's eyes as he had seen back there; it just screamed death at whoever gazed into the roaring hatred.

He had been so distracted by the boy's safety that he had failed to recognize the complicated compound-curse that was thrown at him and his shield, advanced as it was, failed to stop the attack, sending him to the ground and partially immobilizing him.

By the time he was able to undo the curse's after-effects, the fight seemed to be over. He almost got a heart attack for the second time that day as he saw Harry was still fighting Voldemort even though he was levitating wrong side up and his wand seemed to be lost.

In the few moments it took for the killing curse to leave Voldemort's wand, Dumbledore managed to animate the golden statue of the wizard and make it throw itself in the small space between the boy and the sickly green light.

The blowing the statue to bits had had its ups and downs, positively shredding the young body behind it but forcing the Dark Lord to raise a shield to protect himself from the golden shrapnel flying in all directions,.

Barely sparing a glance at Harry before being pulled into combat by Voldemort, infuriated that he had failed in killing the young boy again. The Headmaster's body and most of his mind were into the duel but a small part of it was busy analyzing the situation.

He was sure the Death Eaters he had stunned and bound with so many different precautions would be out of it for quite some time, but then, what where the rest of the Order members doing? Also, he was sure Harry was still alive, but he would need urgent medical assistance to remain so; on the other hand, someone was bound to arrive sooner or later, if he could stall Tom until then he could expose him to the world and force the minister to admit everything he had been so fervently denying this past year.

Dumbledore was saved from making a decision when green light and the roar of fire surrounded the dueling wizards. From all around them, people began coming out of the many fireplaces and they all froze as their eyes found the most feared wizard ,who they had all been assured was definitely not back from the dead, quite alive and fighting the old man they had branded a madman and a liar.

Dumbledore stifled a laugh at the look on the face of Cornelius Fudge, minister of magic, when he realized he was in for it. He turned his attention back to Voldemort, who looked rather mad at loosing the element of surprise in such a stupendous fashion, only to watch him disappear.

Harry felt as if he had only gotten a few seconds worth of sleep when his world seemed to explode as every nerve in his body was assaulted with unbearable amounts of pain, making Voldemort's angriest and most powerful Cruciatus curse become a tickle in his ear in comparison. Beginning at somewhere in his head, and running through his entire being, agony of the worst kind he had ever experienced ripped through him.

He didn't even know if he was screaming or not, which way was up and where was down, he had no idea where he was, or who he was, or what he was, as everything that had once took place in his mind was burned away in an instant and replaced by the pain.

As he gave in to the pain, images began returning to his brain, fighting with a powerful old man, watching in insane joy as a young man was tortured, watching the same man torture a woman…

Slowly the memories started to become more understandable and he found himself in an elegant room, surrounded by figures in black robes bowing before him while he ordered them to go wait for Potter at the Prophecy Chamber in the lowest level of the Ministry of Magic. The memory blurred out and a series of others flashed before him.

Eventually, his mind returned to himself and he realized this must be Voldemort's memories, "But what are they doing in my head? And what was that pain from before?"

His musings were interrupted when he caught a glimpse at another memory "Why the fuck could Voldemort possibly be doing walking in the street, in plain sight when he is supposed to be dead?" Harry wondered, why would he risk being seen, he couldn't possibly be just taking a midnight stroll to get some fresh air now could he? "No. He must have been up to something important, to go himself and not sending some worthless minion."

Harry focused on it and moments later he found himself in the memory…

He was walking down the sidewalk of an empty street. It was pitch black, middle of the night according to the huge muggle-built clock tower a couple of streets down. He reached a bar with some flashy signs on its display window, Epiphany, for men, the name read.

He ignored the sounds of celebration coming from the inside and resisted the urge to step in for a minute to kill the drunken beasts making such a racket. No, he didn't need to draw any attention to himself, and the screams of terror would most likely cause the neighbors to take a peek through their windows.

He rounded a corner and spotted an old church-like building. "Finally" he thought, walking right into it, ignoring the signs warning him to stay out due to the possibility of the building coming down on him. He opened the little door on the side instead of the main one with a flick of his wand, and walked right in.

He looked around, it was definitely an old church, there were rows of benches and columns on the sides and an altar on a raised platform at the end of the room, right above it hung a huge wooden cross. To anyone it would be a completely normal looking abandoned old church, but to those who knew where to look, they would notice that something evil lurked around, only to the magical population did the cross show its true appearance, with devilish wings coming out of its top section and a skull with a crown of flame resting on top of it. And only to the magical did the goblet on the altar was filled with blood and the book lying next to it became an old journal containing the story of what had transpired at this place.

Immediately he sensed the presence of one individual, "I am Lord Voldemort, here attend a meeting with your master. I came alone, as requested" he really hated being this polite, but he needed to act supportive and agreeable in order to fulfill his plans for the ministry's downfall.

A pale, gaunt looking man in a long black cloak stepped out from behind a column. His hair was long and black and his eyes seemed to sparkle in the darkness.

The guard regarded him for a moment before turning around and walking over to the altar. "Follow me" he said in a bored voice "We were expecting you"

Voldemort walked up to him resisting hard the desire to rip the man apart for giving him an order, "That just won't do" he thought as he calmed himself quickly and looked at the man who was standing before the altar.

The man bit his finger and let a drop of blood fall into the goblet, before picking it up carfully and opening the book to a marked page, turning seven pages forward and the going back two, Voldemort noticed that the text previously written on the page had vanished and had been replaced by an image of an opened set of fangs with the same cross right above them drawn in the space between them.

The man promptly poured the entire contents of the goblet into the image, which absorbed the blood without staining the page. When the last blood fell into the image, the jaws closed and took on a red tinge. The man closed the book and placed the goblet back in its previous place.

Voldemort watched as a altar grew and turned into a tall archway with closed doors and the goblet and the book on top of it.

"They have some style, I'll give them that much" Voldemort thought as the man opened the door and stepped inside, motioning for him to follow.

They went into a large chamber with a high ceiling, completely made of stone, and a series of door-shaped holes in two lines on the walls, high above the ground. He was led across the chamber and in to a long hallway through a normal sized door at the end of it. Then, into a large circular platform, located at the end of the hallway. His pale guide walked to the center of it and spun a stone circle on a short column-like thing. A moment later, the platform began descending.

After passing the many levels of the underground city/fortress, they came to a stop. They stepped out and walked up to set huge double doors flanked by a pair of guards, completely covered in silver armor and helmets, armed with heavy looking pikes and a sword on their belts. His guide stopped and turned to him "I will need your wand before you are granted access to the throne room"

Voldemort merely looked at him with a mocking smile, as if daring him to try to take it, and after a moment the man shrugged and pushed the huge doors open with relative ease before leading him inside.

The throne room was as majestic as it was scary to say the least. But the throne was unoccupied, instead, a figure in highly decorated robes stood in the middle halfway between the throne and the doors, next to a comfortable looking pair of couches.

Very curious about the king's unusual show of equality, Voldemort walked over to him and decided to play politely once again, greeting him with a small bow.

"I welcome you, Lord Voldemort" said the richly dressed individual before him "Please, take a seat"

Voldemort did as he was told and sat on the comfortable couch offered to him. "I have heard you have a proposition for me?" the lordly man before him inquired.

"Yes…" and so Voldemort began explaining the plans he had for the ministry and the opportunity for his kind to live freely among the magical population once again. Of course, they were all lies, but by the time they noticed he would have seized the power for himself and he would have ensured this entire place was buried forever under the cold earth. But there was no need for anyone to know that… yet.

After almost an hour of negotiating, the man before him grinned, stood and held his han out to Voldemort "It seems we have an agreement, Lord Voldemort"

As the memory faded out, Harry was filled with rage, but any thought he might have was quelled by the return of the pain he had felt right before his incursion into his worst enemy's mind.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Still own nothing.

Thank you for the reviews, you guys are great. Yes, I know Vampire Nation sounds a bit... odd. But I didn't know how else to call it, still open to suggesdtions.

Harry was lying on something soft, soft and warm and welcoming.

His mind was blissfully blank and all he could think about was how comfortable he was. His sluggish brain considered getting up, but he quickly discarded the idea.

"Why would I ever do that? This place is far too comfortable and I my body is rather sore." Why was he sore? He didn't know, and at the moment it didn't matter. He rolled around so he was laying face-down on… whatever he was laying on, and returned to his previous task: doing nothing.

After about an hour of this he began wondering, where was he? He had a sneaking suspicion he was lying on a bed, but where?

Rolling back to a face-up position and lazily opening his eyes, he was met by a disturbingly familiar sight: the ceiling of the Hogwarts Hospital Wing.

"Oh, not again!" he grumbled "Wonder how I got here this time… "

"I can answer that"

Harry Jumped at the voice coming from behind him and quickly turned around, to find Dumbledore behind him, looking as calm as ever and looking at him in the eye.

Harry expected to be filled with hatred towards the old headmaster just like the last time their eyes had met, but none came. Dumbledore, seeing his puzzled expression, chuckled sadly "I believe it is time we talked, Harry"

Dumbledore watched as the young man in front of him proceeded to trash his office.

He wasn't sure if this reaction had been brought on by the revelation of the prophecy, the death of his godfather, or any of the other things he had just told Harry.

It was devastating to watch someone so young and so strong like this, stricken by sorrow and rage, and it was worse for the aged wizard because he knew most of this was his own fault.

The silver lining to his current predicament was that Harry hadn't damaged his file cabinet, every object in his office could be repaired with a simple swish of his wand, but they in order for them to rearrange themselves to their proper place, you had to remember where they were previously.

Unfortunately for Dumbledore, he had years and year's worth of paperwork kept in the magically enlarged cabinet next to the window. And destroying the cabinet would not only cause an explosion as the magic charm broke and the content became to much for the container, but it would mean wasting days to get everything back in place. And he would have to do it himself, as much of the information hidden there was strictly for his eyes and his only.

As if sensing the headmaster's thoughts, Harry picked up a chair and smashed with as much strength as his body could muster against the one undamaged piece of furniture in the office. The magically enlarged file cabinet.

The sound of crunching wood filled their ears at the same time tons of parchment and more important looking documents filled the office. Dumbledore got some amusement as the expression on Harry's face turned from rage to wonder in a split-second before he was swallowed by the wave of paperwork.

He raised a small shield to protect himself from the coming avalanche, and found himself in a bubble-shaped parchment-free space. After everything settled he dropped his shield and sent a mild gust of wind upwards to avoid being buried.

Looking around, he could only see his phoenix perched on top of the highest pile of papery mess that now covered everything in his office. "Perhaps you should assist Mr. Potter in finding his way back to the surface, Fawkes" he said as he realized Harry was nowhere to be seen.

Another, albeit smaller, papery explosion revealed Harry Potter, only moderately irritated now, standing near the door.

"What was that?" he asked, eyes still closed and taking some deep breaths as if trying to calm himself down.

"That is what happens when an enlargement charm is broken and the volume of the content is greater than the volume of the container." Dumbledore responded serenely, evidently not angered by neither the destruction of his office or the mess he would have to clean later.

Opening his eyes and looking up, Harry said "I am sorry, sir" calm now but not looking very sorry.

"No need to apologize Harry" In fact, he expected something like a punch to the face or a series of insults at his person, but none came, perhaps Harry was more mature than he gave him credit for.

Finally able to think clearly again, Harry began remembering the events that had led to him laying in a bed in the Hospital Wing, and the mental adventure prior to his black-out.

"What happened?" the question was rather vague but Dumbledore figured he would want to know the outcome of the battle in the Ministry.

"After you so valiantly defied Voldemort, he sent a killing curse at you, I animated one of the other statues in the fountain and used it to block the curse." He recounted the events "You must have upset him quite a bit, as the curse destroyed the statue completely. Voldemort was unscathed and we immediately engaged in a duel, a few minutes later a number of ministry workers arrived through the floo network, our esteemed minister among them. Voldemort vanished but not after everyone had a chance to get a proper look at him. I am sure you will be pleased to know that the Daily Prophet has published articles about the Dark Lord's return and Cornelius is in a tight spot, what with everyone blaming him for covering up such a major development."

"So I'm a hero again? Oh joy!" Harry said, his voice laced with sarcasm. "What happened next?"

Dumbledore looked thoughtful for a moment, "I believe Voldemort tried to posses you"

"What?" Harry exploded.

"Calm down, Harry. I assure you he failed, you are as yourself as always" He quickly interrupted before his temper flared up again and he ended up burning the parchment filled office. "He was succeeding at first, but after a couple of seconds of struggle he was forced out"

"A couple of… but it felt like… And he was forced out? How?" It had seemed like an hour at least. Between the pain and the flashbacks and memories, the negotiation with the vampire lord had lasted for about half an hour alone, and the way to the throne room had taken even longer!

And then he remembered.

Interrupting Dumbledore from whatever explanation he had been giving about how he had pushed Voldemort out of his mind, he agitatedly yelled "The vampires!" Completely startling his headmaster "He was meeting with the vampires to negotiate an alliance! But he is going to double-cross them after they take down the ministry!"

"I am afraid you have lost me, Harry" Dumbledore was quite befuddled now. "Would you mind explaining?" he inquired gently.

"I saw his memories! I was in his head!" Harry looked a bit crazed "He was walking down a street in muggle London, it was the midnight, so no one saw him, then he went into a dark alley and on the other side was an abandoned church. And when he went inside, he met this really pale guy who was supposed to be a guard, but the pale guy opened a portal and it took them place that looked pretty old, completely made of stone and probably underground. Then he took a huge circular elevator, except it wasn't exactly an elevator since it was made of stone and it kind of floated down. Then he went into a throne room and he met with this vampire lord guy and offered them a chance to end the discrimination and persecution against them if they helped him with some plan to take down the ministry! But in reality, he is planning to take it over and eliminate the vampires!"

"Harry, are you certain this memory is not another bait to lure you to another ambush?"

Dumbledore thought Harry was mentally exhausted after all he had gone through and the number of truths he had just revealed to him. Perhaps it was too much to take in such a short time. "Maybe you should take a calming draught before you proceed?"

"What? I'm not crazy!" the undignified young man replied "And this was different, he wasn't sending images at me, it was like… like or minds were connected for a short moment… and our minds received the recent knowledge in the mind of the other…" he wondered for a moment what else could I have picked up from him? He hoped he could now conjure that red shield Voldemort had used back in the Ministry. That would be so awesome.

The change from confused to riled-up and agitated, to staring wonderingly at nothingness convinced Dumbledore that Harry's brain had overheated. "Here ,Harry" he said, summoning a crystal phial, filled with some potion, from his desk and handing it to him "I find a sip of this always helps when one's mind becomes a bit too crowded."

Harry nodded absent mindedly, downed the potion in one swig, stared at the phial in his hand with a look of recognition, turned to glare at Dumbledore, and the collapsed on the ground, lifting a small cloud of dust and parchment.

Fawkes looked at Dumbledore reproachfully, as if not accepting his method for making Harry take his much needed rest, but he ignored it, instead levitating the sleeping body and taking him back to the infirmary. It was a long walk but with the help of some disillusionment charms no one noticed them until he set Harry down on a bed and informed madam Pomfrey that he was not injured in any way and had just taken a dreamless sleep potion.

Exiting quickly, before she had a chance to round up on him for taking him out of the Hospital Wing without her consent when he still needed his rest, he made his way back to his office.

As the door that lead to his office swung open more paperwork poured down the spiral staircase. "Better start fixing this mess, eh, Fawkes?" he smiled the phoenix, who promptly spread its wings and flew out the window, as if saying: "Well good luck with that!"

Chuckling silently, the wizened headmaster began waving his wand, arranging all the files into dozens of tall stacks and floating them over to the center of the room, so he could start fixing the havoc the fury-filled Harry had wreaked in his office.

Once everything was whole and in place again he looked over at the stacks of paper, towering before him, as he began contemplating the possibility of leaving them for later and taking a nap for now.

"Well it is not like they are likely to go anywhere for a while."He mused"And it has been a while since I used my bed."

With that thought, Albus Dumbledore headed over to the door to his personal quarters and prepared himself to take a nice long nap, setting his glasses on the polished surface of his nightstand table.

Some hours later, he was awakened by his phoenix appearing in a blaze of fire just above his sleeping self.

The urgent trill from Fawkes quickly scared off any remaining grogginess and he summoned his wand to his hand and his spectacles to his face. Grabbing on to the tail feathers he was engulfed in flames for a moment before he appeared in the Hospital Wing, where there was a number of people congregated around one of the beds.

One look around was enough to realize that Harry was nowhere to be scene, meaning the cluster of people were hiding him from view.

The crow parted as a pale faced Minerva McGonagall spotted the approaching Headmaster, revealing the cause of all the stress.

Harry was still lying on his bed, and he was still unconscious. Yet there had obviously been some kind of accident, as he was considerably paler, he was sporting some brand new wounds or injuries, and the white hospital bed was almost completely tinged in red.

If that was not already serious enough, the look of Madam Pomfrey's face, lowered half in terror and half in defeat was something he had never seen before.

It was then and then, before his eyes, that Harry Potter grunted before the puncture-like wounds in his neck burst and his breathing stopped. Dumbledore did not recoil as his glasses became obscured and his white beard was dyed red; he sprung into action.


	4. Chapter 4

5 hours earlier

"I can't believe this is actually working." Harry thought to himself as his body was being levitated toward the Hogwarts Hospital Wing, unnoticed by his passing classmates.

He was not sure where he was exactly, he didn't dare open his eyes while he was still in the presence of his Headmaster, who currently believed him to be asleep, under the effects of the dreamless sleep potion.

At first, he had been angered by the old man and his attempt to slip him the potion, but then he had seen the opportunity and he had seized it.

It was almost insulting to his intelligence; did Dumbledore really think that Harry would mistake dreamless sleep for a calming draught? As if he had not been confined to the hospital nearly enough times to recognize some of the potions that were more frequently used in that place.

He was not some kind of potions expert, not by a long shot, but he remembered if there were two flavors he could recognize anywhere, dreamless sleep would be one of them. The other one would be skele-grow, the nastiest brew he had had the displeasure of meeting.

The moment he recognized the potion in his mouth, he pretended to swallow, making sure to keep any of the stuff from going down his throat, and collapsed on the floor, discreetly taking out his wand on the way down. Hidden by a few feet of paperwork, he spat it all out and muttered a quick cleaning charm as silently as possible, before pushing his wand up his sleeve and holding it in place with his wrist.

The journey was long and irritating, as he was forced to try regulating his breathing and showing no emotion on his face, or else his plan go to waste. He knew that Dumbledore would not listen to him, he probably didn't think what Harry saw was true.

So, Harry would act by himself, he would escape from the Hospital Wing, get to London, find the abandoned church from Voldemort's memory, and warn the vampires of his eminent betrayal, somehow.

He knew it was probably stupid to rush into it, especially since it would take a while for the vampires to be betrayed, but he had a lot in his mind and wasn't ready or willing to deal with it.

The first step was reaching the infirmary, so he waited patiently and tried to occupy his mind on nothing to avoid his face betraying any emotion and blow his cover.

Around a minute later, he heard Dumbledore call to Madam Pomfrey, telling her that Harry was not hurt, just sleeping, and leaving her instructions to watch over him, lest he escaped again.

He was floated over to the bed and then softly deposited on it. He just laid there, as motionless as a rock, waiting for the perfect moment to put his half developed plan into action.

Two and a half minutes later, said moment arrived.

Madam Pomfrey had been walking around the beds, probably fluffing pillows or something, until her footsteps stopped for a second and then picked up. Harry opened one eye to see the school nurse walking briskly towards the back of the infirmary, and the small door that probably lead to her personal chambers.

Harry waited until the door to her office closed before sat up and looked around, after verifying the coast was clear, he moved out of the bed and ran to the exit. He stopped for a moment, looking to back to check on the nurse, she was still nowhere to be seen, pulling one of the big wooden doors open by an inch to check there was no one around, before slipping out and carefully closing it behind him.

Once he was out, he made his way to Umbridge's office taking great care to ensure he was not seen or followed.

Reaching the door of her office, he was surprised to find it still unlocked. The inside was still pink and sickly gay, it was pretty much the same, not a clue about the struggle that had occurred here a short while ago remained, the only difference Harry noted, with no small amount of satisfaction, was the removal of the "Headmistress" sign on the desk.

Stepping around the desk, he grabbed the little pink pot filled floo powder and tossed some into the fireplace. At once, green flames roared into existence and he turned to place the pot back. He saw the disgusting plate collection with cats painted on them, all looking at him hatefully, and decided to do something he had been dying to do since the first time he walked into this room for his first detention, he took out his wand, pointed it at the plate-covered walls and "Reducto!", blasted a great number of them into pieces, the remaining cats looked frightened and began running out of the edges of their individual dishes, bunching together and crashing against each other. Aiming for the biggest cat congregation he found, he repeated the spell "Reducto! Reducto! Reducto!" until only one remained, with all the surviving cats mewing and hissing angrily at him as he walked over to them, took it off from the wall, and smirked at them as he took a few steps closer to the window.

The cats went berserk as they looked madly for an escape of their unavoidable doom, but there was nowhere to go for them, as Harry lazily flung the pink plate out of the window.

He waited for a couple of seconds until he heard the distinct sound of breaking china to let out an almost evil cackle.

Wiping a tear from his eye as he regained his composure, he wondered what else he could possibly do to ruin the toad-woman who had forced him to carve 'I must not tell lies.' into the back of his hand. He had the scar to prove it, and more than enough witnesses who would most likely claim had always supported him now that he was not "delusional and unbalanced" ,as the Prophet had labeled him, anymore.

But then he remembered that the bitch was still in the forest, hopefully being brutally sodomized by the centaurs, "ugh, I did not need to picture that" he thought as the disgusting mental image came to him.

Shaking himself out of that particularly unpleasant train of thought, he stepped into the fire after exclaiming "The Leaky Cauldron!"

His world was swallowed by flames and he spun quickly as he caught glimpses out of some fireplaces on his way. He wasn't very fond of this sort of magical travel. He preferred brooms or flying, old-looking muggle cars.

He was flung face-first to the ground in front of the fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron. He picked himself up and exited the building before someone noticed him. Luckily, the place seemed rather empty, and the only one who noticed him was Tom, the bartender and owner of the place.

He walked outside and wondered for a moment how to get to the old church he had seen in his vision. He remembered there was a park, from which he could see a huge clock tower, and he had to take a left at a bar called "Epiphany", or something like that, then he should be able to see it.

He decided to look for the clock tower, he had seen it before somewhere and he knew it was in London, he just didn't know where exactly. He could walk around and ask people if they had seen a huge tower with a clock on it, or he could look for the bar and not sound like a complete retard or an idiot tourist, or he could just take a cab.

In the end, he went back inside and asked Tom for a couple of pounds, which the toothless bartender graciously provided, and took the first cab he saw, asking it to take him to the bar.

"Aren't ya a bit young to be drinking, lad?" the cab driver asked. Looking at him with a critical eye.

"Oh, I won't be going into the bar, I am meeting someone nearby." Technically true.

The driver didn't look very convinced, but began driving nonetheless.

As Harry gazed out through the window, he realized had not seen that much of muggle London before. He saw thousands of people, happily walking around the streets, minding their own business, oblivious to the danger that lurked in the shadows, unlike the wizarding population, must be right now, or would be in a short number of days, when the news of Voldemrt's return spread around.

"Finally", Harry thought, as the clock tower came into view; and just a few moments later, Harry paid the driver and stepped out from the cab. Right in front of him stood a regular looking bar, red brick walls and a neon sign that read 'Epiphany, for men', which was currently turned off.

He closed his eyes for a moment and concentrated on what to do next, Voldemort had taken the first alley to the left and turned right at the end. So he did just that

The smell of old, half-decomposed garbage assaulted his senses as he walked across the alley, he considered casting a Bubble-head charm on himself, the Ministry should be in too much chaos right now for anyone to notice a small bit of underage sorcery, right?

By the time he had decided not to take unnecessary risks, he was looking at an ancient church-like building.

He walked down the street, with a small sense of unease in his gut. He had a bad feeling about this, but he still climbed the relatively short wall and jumped down on the other side.

Harry made his way across the courtyard and up some stone steps up to the main entrance and found the side door Voldemort had taken, which was closed again and he couldn't use magic to open it.

Looking around for a moment he wondered how he was supposed to get inside, he figured he was kinda useless without magic, his body was scrawny-looking and he had never bothered to work-out or something, but it wasn't like he could use physical strength on a duel now could he?

"Well… Perhaps not on a duel, but this door on the other hand…" he pondered for a second "Ah, what the hell", he took a step back, and pushed himself forward with one foot as the other rose and smashed against the door with all his lower body strength.

Nothing happened.

The door stood exactly the same, almost taunting him in its undamaged state. He took some steps back, and ran full-speed ahead. When he was like 6 feet from it, he jumped into a horizontal position and used both feet to pound the door.

He fell painfully back to the floor, but was satisfied to hear the wood splinter. Sitting up again, he saw the door was splintered and cracked. "Not so tough now, are you?" he thought.

He repeated his first kick, and the door burst open. As his foot connected, the most wonderful feeling ran across his body, relaxing and adrenaline injecting at the same time, "I definitely need to that more often." Heart pounding and breathing heavily, he walked in.

There wasn't anyone waiting for him, as far as he could tell. He took a moment to observe his surroundings, in case someone was waiting to ambush him or something, constant vigilance and whatnot, before walking behind the altar.

The cross hanging above him changed, adding wings and a skull with a flaming crown, and there was an old looking book and a cup filled with some red liquid.

It smelled like wine, that wasn't right. The cup was supposed to be filled with blood. Wasn't it?

"What was it that the pale dude did?" he concentrated for a moment, trying to remember every detail he could have missed, "Oh, that's right". He looked around, searching for anything sharp or pointy.

He found and empty bottle of beer lying around, and after smashing it against the wall, he walked back to the cup.

He placed his hand right above it and sliced his finger open, wincing slightly at the pain, to let a few drops fall into the red liquid.

After a while of nothing happening, he sucked his finger and wondered what he was doing wrong. "Maybe it needs more blood?"He put his hand in place again but this time he cut the palm open.

A bigger number of drops fell into the cup and he held the hand there until it was mostly red. "That should be enough." He opened the book on the marked page and saw it was some kind of journal.

It was surprisingly well kept, and the writing did not seem to be that old.

Five hundredth day since D-day number 4, I should really come up with a new name for important days.

N.T.S.: Run it through with big brother.

It seemed to be an interesting read, perhaps he could look through it on the way out, but right now he had something to do.

Someone must have noticed his absence by now, and if they went to Dumbledore he would immediately know what he was up to and deploy Order members to search for him.

Passing seven pages forward all filled with paragraph after paragraph of whatever the owner had lived through, and then went two pages back.

The previous text had vanished and in its place, a pair of fangs had replaced it, and in the middle of them, the cross hanging above his head was drawn.

He picked up the goblet and after a quick "God, I hope this works.", he emptied it into the image.

His eyes widened as the splash was swallowed by the drawing, not a single drop staining the old pages, and once the cup was empty, the fangs were painted red, and snapped shut. He placed the cup back on the altar as before his eyes, the altar grew in height and width, until a tall gate stood in front of him, with a white arch and black doors.

His breathing was fast and his heart was pumping away at full speed as he opened the door and stepped inside. He was standing in a huge chamber, completely made of stone, and with a small door on the far side.

The place seemed ancient, there was dust everywhere, and it looked completely empty, it was dark and the only light in the room seemed to come from him, thus putting him in the spotlight so he couldn't help but feel like he was being watched.

As he moved across the room, he noticed what looked like tunnel exits along the walls, he had a bad feeling about them, as if suddenly water would start pouring through them and he would drown.

He ended up running al the way to the exit as fast as he could; he opened it, rushed inside and shut it quickly behind him. He was now in a dark hallway, even darker and creepier than the camber he had just crossed.

"Calm down, Harry. You have been in worst places, remember?" Harry took a deep breath and began walking, a bit faster than normal, until he came to a large circular platform, which didn't seem to be touching the walls on any side.

He looked over the edge and he heart skipped a beat.

There was absolutely nothing underneath it, he was apparently on the top of a tunnel, and the platform in front of him was suspended on top of nothing, with a long way down to go.

"This thing worked for them, so it should work for me, right?" He took a cautious step into the platform, ready to jump back in a second should anything happen.

To his slight relief, nothing happened, and he eventually reached the middle, where a stone cylinder stood, with a gear-like thing on the side.

He walked up to it and inspected the circular object; it was a disk, made of stone, with holes on the edges.

He spun it clockwise all the way, and the platform began its descent.

"Ok, now, what am I going to tell them? I can't just walk in and crush their hopes for freedom and expect them to believe me."He had some experience with politicians and according to it; the chances of the vampire ruler listening to him were rather slim.

He passed many other hallways on his way down, but he was too busy thinking of what to say and how to say it to notice them.

All too soon, the platform stopped at the lowest level and he stepped out of it. The two guards were looking at him, he guessed with a perplexed look, he had to guess because their armor covered every single inch of their body and he couldn't see their faces.

He raised his hands over his head, palms out and extended, in a show of not meaning any harm.

They just stood there watching him, not even dropping their stance at the sides of the great doors.

He took a step forward, and the guards leapt at him. He only had time for two steps back before one of them threw his spear at him from the air, Harry spun sideways and the spear left a tear on the back his jacket, years of dodging punches and playing seeker at quidditch had sharpened his reflexes quite a bit.

By the time he ended his dodging maneuver, there was one vampire guard in front of him and one behind him, cautiously coming closer.

"Wait! I just want to talk to your… er… king?... about something!" he said uncertainly, come to think of it, he hadn't thought about what to do "I don't want to fight or anything." That didn't seem to convince them, so he decided to add a bit more.

"You are all in great danger and I need you to at least hear me out!" That never worked for his Divination professor, when she made her predications of terrible doom, but he was planning as he went anyways.

The guards froze in place for a moment, they were the perfect statue, and Harry thought they weren't even breathing. After a couple of tense seconds, for Harry at least, the guards seemed to judge him as a minor threat to their king, because they simultaneously returned to their passive stance and one walked over to retrieve his spear while the other just stood there, watching Harry.

When the first one returned, they stood on his sides and waited for him to proceed. Harry walked forward nervously at first, but when they didn't attack him again, instead just choosing to advance at his same speed, he strode a bit more confidently at the doors.

When he reached the entrance to the throne room, each vampire opened one door with one hand, while the other held the spear in a guard stance.

"These guys are certainly well trained, they even move at the same time!" Harry thought as he entered the same room he had entered in Voldemort's memory. It looked even more awesome in person, he thought to himself.

The place was huge! About the size of football field and he couldn't see the ceiling. The walls were decorated with some weird-looking patterns and there, at the opposite end of the room was the throne, made of gold and stone, it didn't look very comfortable in Harry's opinion.

The vampire had seen in the vision was seated on it, and the couches were gone, apparently he wasn't going to get the same treatment or respect than the Dark Lord.

No one moved for a minute. So Harry decided they were expecting him to go first.

He walked in what he hoped looked like a calm and confident way towards the opposite end of the room, he looked around as if admiring the place and stuck his hands in his pockets, half of the reason was because he thought it would make him look cool, the other half of the reason was to keep them from shaking and hiding the fact that they were starting to feel sweaty. The fact that his wand was in his right pocket was just a welcome bonus.

When he was close enough to the important looking vampire, he stopped walking and looked at him for a second.

"You met with someone a short while ago." It wasn't a question, but it wasn't an accusation either, just a fact. Harry hadn't bothered with presentations, he was sure the vampire knew who he was, and if he didn't, it was all the better for him.

"That someone made you a proposition." He said in a calm, clear voice. "A proposition you accepted."

The vampire was looking at him with an amused expression on his face, and perhaps just a bit appraising.

"They were all lies" at this, the vampire frowned. Confused or angry, Harry did not know, he was busy thinking of the best way to break the bad news to them and hopefully get back out in one piece. "Tom Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort," there, nothing like one last 'fuck you' before going down "is planning to use you and then betray you, once either you outlive your usefulness or demand something in return."

The vampire looked at him with a frown on his face, "How do you know this?" he said "And why would you tell me? How do I know you are not merely wishing to protect the Ministry of Magic?"

Harry looked at him wonderingly, the vampire looked like a man in his early 30's, he was tall and apparently well-built, but his cloak kept Harry guessing, his face was aristocratic and pale, his eyes were between very clear blue and grey, and a dark ring around the iris, his hair was black and at a regular length, swept back and but not reaching his shoulders.

"I am Harry Potter." Harry replied, a bit more confident now he was at least being listened to, "I share a… connection with Voldemort, I saw his memories of coming to this place and everything that happened inside his head." he hoped this vampire was a particularly open-minded one "And lately I have been targeted by the Ministry about as much as your kind has, so I owe them nothing."

After a few seconds, he replied "I have heard of you, boy-who-lived. But the question remains; why are you warning me? If you have been attacked by the minister, do you not want him to be… removed?"

Harry knew what he was talking about, "Yes, I do." he briefly wondered how to make him understand his point of view "But should the Ministry fall, the people would be at chaos, and Voldemort would have to find some way to place himself on control of the country. He doesn't want that, he is not planning to do that, he just wants all who could or would oppose him taken out so he can fill the empty spots with his followers or people under the Imperius."

"Firstly, I don't want him to win." He wondered what would happen if there was a Voldemort supportive Minister, he would end up in hiding or in another country, aimless and alone. "Secondly, I have a slight hero complex" he said with a small smile on his face "and I feel a constant need to help people; especially people who are being manipulated or used without their knowledge by someone like Voldemort."

The vampire looked at him confused "Are you saying you care about my people? Why would you care about monsters like us?" he said slightly angrily "Why help us now, when your kind has done nothing but hunt and kill us 'dark creatures'?" he made quote signs with his fingers.

Harry wondered where this was coming from; he hadn't done anything to offend him had he? Perhaps there was a story involving the ministry and discrimination behind him "Because I do not care what everyone else thinks. I don't give a damn about what people consider to be dark creatures." He decided to add some personal background to make his point a bit more believable. "My father's best friend was a werewolf, and he was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts professor I have ever seen. The nicest person I have ever met is a half-giant." He was searching his mind for anything else he could use at this moment, "I am friends with a house-elf I freed from his previous master, he is a bit crazy but his heart is on the right place. I was saved by centaurs twice now." He was quickly running out of ideas. "I helped a hippogriff to get out of a tight spot once, and in return it helped my godfather…"

His voice broke as he remembered the time he had met Sirius, he had wanted to kill him at first and was fighting to save his life a couple of hours later. Sirius Black, troublemaker to the end. And he was a troublemaker to the end, to his end.

Harry shook his head; the vampire had noticed his downcast expression and was looking curiously at him. Thinking of anything else he could use at the moment, he came up with an image of a young woman of breath-taking beauty, with pale, creamy skin and long platinum blond hair, "And I am friends with a veela from France that I met two years ago." Not that true, but he was sure he had made a lasting impression on her, if competing in and winning the Tri-Wizard Tournament hadn't, materializing not ten feet from her clutching a body and saying the most feared dark wizard had come back from the dead definitely had.

He was returned to Earth by the voice of the man before him, "I will take your words into account; should I decide that what you have said is true, I will establish contact with you somehow."

Wow, that went well.

"In the meantime you will get yourself out of here and I highly suggest you don't inform anyone in any way of this place, otherwise… there will be consequences. Did I make myself clear?" he looked positively dangerous right now. Protective of his people, good.

"Don't worry, I won't." Harry said as he turned around and walked the long way out of the room.

The guards, which had been frozen in place, closed the doors behind him but stayed inside the room, leaving him alone outside of the throne chamber. As he was walking to the lift, he realized something.

His luck was never this good. Everything had gone so smoothly, so complication-free, it almost seemed… too simple.

Harry laughed out loud at this; he was getting paranoid at such a young age. Of course his luck was good now, but it had been terrible a day ago, or two, he wondered how many days had passed since the Ministry incident.

The elevator was not in place when he arrived at the where it was supposed to be waiting for him; he looked up and saw it was way above him, descending. He looked towards the spot the guards had previously occupied, remembering the way they had greeted him, and the fact that they hadn't spoken a word since his arrival. He still wondered how they did the perfect synchronization thing. Where they telepathic? Or maybe they had some way to communicate with each other without speaking, it had to be something to do with the armor, Harry couldn't even see their eyes.

That had to be it, their armor had all sorts of enchantments to let them see clearly and communicate soundlessly, that explained why he had been allowed inside, they must have informed the guy on the throne and he told them to let him in. They also must have had some physical ability boost on their armor; they had jumped like fifteen feet in the air and some ten or twenty across.

I wonder if I could get one of those. The lift appeared again and a cloaked figure carrying a load of books and pieces of parchment walked out of it, flanked by another pair of armed guards. He seemed agitated as he briskly moved to the doors back to the throne room and he didn't seem to notice Harry.

The guards, however, did.

One of them stepped down and followed the previous vampire towards the great doors behind Harry, the other one stepped down but turned to look at him, frozen mid-step. Harry was a bit nervous about him, but if his theory about their armor was correct, they would know he was not a enemy. So he shook his nerves away and boarded the lift.

Harry approached the column in the center and proceeded to turn the disk, as the platform began its ascent, Harry noticed something on the floor, he picked it up and noticed it was a newspaper.

Not bothering to look at the front page, he figured it must belong to the vampire who had just left the platform, so he walked over to the edge and called out to him "Excuse me, sir!" the vampire in question froze as he turned around and spotted him in the rising lift, "You dropped this!" Harry added as he waved the newspaper in his hand, papers flew across the air as he jumped up, turned to the guards and shrieked at the top of his lungs.

"Human! Kill him you idiots!" the guards didn't seem to hear him for a second, but in the next they sprung forward again and, same as last time, one threw his spear at Harry.

"So much for smoothness."Harry thought as he flung himself to the side to avoid the incoming projectile.

Apparently they had been holding out on him, as this time, the spear was much faster and it grazed the side of his abdomen, hitting the wall on the other side but not even scratching it, instead bouncing back down harmlessly onto the platform.

Pain was not something new to him, so he was quickly able to get up and take out his wand, Ministry regulations for underage sorcery be damned, just in time to see one of the two guards jump through the closing gap as the lift kept rising.

The gap was closed a second later, the last armored vampire hitting the edge and falling off it. So good news is one of the guards is stuck somewhere and can't do anything about it. Bad news being that the other one is stuck in a circular platform with no exit with you.

Way to go, Harry.

"You don't have to do this." Harry tried reasoning with him, or at least he supposed it was a he. Truth be told, that armor was the exact same size and proportion on both guards so he couldn't tell.

The guard responded to this in his usual way, completely ignoring him, but then he did something he hadn't done before, his head moved to look at something on Harry's right.

Harry was about to look around when he realized that the guard must have noticed the blood flowing on his side.

"This can't be good." He muttered, looking back to the guard with a bit frightened grin, "Hope you just had your lunch break."

The guard was apparently too distracted by the blood to do anything but look at it.

Harry briefly tried to come up with a plan, and decided to stall him to buy some more time. "It is impolite to stare, you know?" probably the worst joke he had ever said in the worst possible time but at least the guard was looking between his face and the blood on his side.

Harry looked up, deciding there was still a long way to go when he failed to see he top, and he doubted his charming personality and brilliantly thought out jokes would be enough to get him there.

The guard shook his head and then crouched slightly, standing diagonally to him and lowering his spear to point at him. Apparently it had decided to follow orders. Well, too bad for him. Harry thought.

Harry bent his knees, not in a dueling stance, but just ready to dodge something fast in case he had to. Looking around he saw the spear that had cut his side lying halfway across the platform.

The guard noticed this, and in the next moment rushed at him, thrusting forward with the spear. Harry barely managed to move his body so the spear missed his chest and went through the space below his left armpit. He grabbed it with his left hand and kept it in place while he raised his wand with the right, the vampire only managed to lift him from the ground before Harry aimed at his attacker's chest and yelled "Expelliarmus!"

There was a white flash and the vampire was thrown back a few feet and his hands flew from the spear but he managed to keep his footing. Harry landed on his feet again, and even though his side flared, he didn't fall down. The guard looked at Harry for a moment, before unsheathing his sword and taking a fighting stance again.

Harry looked at him for a moment while he wondered if he could actually use the spear in his hand for anything, he could use it to block any physical attacks, but he would need both hands, and he wasn't going to change his wand for a spear any time soon.

He tossed it to the edge of the platform and it fell off it. The guard took the opportunity to lunge again, but Harry brought up a shield and the vampire crashed against it as if it were a solid wall. Taking advantage of his opponent's confusion, "Stupefy!" he threw a stunner at him and was satisfied as the red beam splashed on the chest plate, the guy was pushed backwards a bit and he collapsed backwards on the ground.

Harry wondered if he was really unconscious or just trying to trick him, deciding to play it safe, he summoned the spear that was lying on the ground and caught it with his left hand; he walked over to the supposedly unconscious body and used the blunt end of the spear to poke on his chest.

The first few pokes nothing happened, but then he turned the spear in his hand and passed the bloodied tip across his face, he noticed with some amusement that the vampire tried to follow the blood with his head at every pass he made, clearly he could still smell it, but was trying to hide it. Harry was starting to like this guy in all his rookie-ish glory.

Harry pointed his wand at him again and muttered "Expelliarmus" and, as expected, the vampire tried to make a grab for its sword as it flew away. Realizing its cover was blown, he did some kind of back flip and landed on his feet, again taking a fighting position, as if readying himself for a martial arts showdown, Harry had to admire his determination, but he was just half-way up, he could use his wand and take him out for good, maybe throwing him down the side of the lift would do the job, but he wasn't that evil; sure, since losing the last person he considered family he didn't think he could go through life with stunners and disarmers, but that didn't mean he had to be unfair, did it?

He decided to take the high road, and threw the spear at the vampire's feet.

His helmet bobbed up and down as he turned between the spear on the ground and Harry's face. Harry just looked back for a while, and then grinned "Are you going to pick it up any time soon?" he asked pleasantly "Or do you want to do this in a more old style fashion?"

The vampire looked at him in what Harry guessed was confusion, so Harry, grin still in place, pocketed his wand and took a boxing stance like he had seen on some muggle movies, and said with a fake accent "Let's do this. Mano y mano, come on, bitch!" as he hopped on his place.

Harry was pretty sure that the vampire wouldn't kill him; he had spared his life twice now, and most magical creatures had some sense of honor.

He forgot that magical creatures could also be easily insulted .So he was quite surprised when the vampire lunged at him and before he could do more than blink, punched him in the gut.

As the air left his lungs, Harry began to feel stupid, for the umpteenth time that day. He stumbled a few steps back before he regained his footing and looked up; the vampire was just standing there, looking at him.

He just stayed there for a bit, hands on his knees, as he tried to regain his breath.

"Ouch." He muttered.

He chuckled a bit once he was mostly back to normal, "Good punch. I guess this wasn't my best idea." He took a deep breath and bent his knees slightly, bringing his arms up again. The vampire was fast and he was strong, but if he could dodge one punch, he could land at least one of his own.

The vampire lunged forward again and brought up his knee to Harry's stomach. Harry managed to sidestep to the left and duck below the backhand flying at his face. He took his shot as the vampire tried to put some distance between them and rose from his crouched position to jam his right fist upwards at his chin.

His vision was filled with a white light for a moment as he grit his teeth to try to keep himself from shouting out.

Note to self, never punch someone who is inside a suit of armor .Harry nursed his hand as he cursed out loud, his hand felt like he had just broke at least a couple of knuckles. He looked down to find the skin red and the beginning of a bruise on each one, little cuts and scrapes on a few.

"Definitely not my best idea." He growled "Fuck! That thing is hard!" He looked at the vampire when he heard him laughing. Make that a: her laughing.

"No fucking way…" Harry's uppercut had not only served to destroy his own knuckles, it had also lifted the helmet half way up the girl's face. He could tell it was a girl because of the delicate looking features of her face, and of course the pair of full, soft-looking lips.

She had thrown her head back and was laughing; Harry was surprised by the absence of fangs.

"Are you a vampire?" he asked her. Vampires were supposed to have fangs, but there was absolutely no way he was being beaten in a fist fight against a normal girl.

She stopped laughing, but kept smiling, as she took her helmet off, completely revealing her small nose, and violet eyes. Her shiny black hair reached perhaps half a foot below her shoulders. She looked like a teenager.

"No, I am just really fast and strong, and like to hang around in an underground vampire fortress, just for kicks, you know." Her voice almost dripped sarcasm, and her face turned serious.

"Don't forget jumping twenty feet into the air." He added with mock seriousness. After you got through the stone-cold… coldness… of her, you kind of had to like this girl.

"Oh, right. Yeah it's just something that runs in my family, along with the freak eyes, just your average girl." She replied, unable to keep the smile from her face.

"Your beautiful, average girl with the freakishly stunning eyes. If I may be so bold as to add." Harry corrected with a sly grin. He figured he had to make Sirius proud one way or another, and if that including flirting and taunting his way to death, then so mote it be.

The girl looked at him perplexed for a moment before bursting out laughing again. "You certainly are something else, flirting with your executioner." She said with mirth in her eyes.

"Aww. Come on baby, you wouldn't kill me, would you?" One week ago, Harry would have been blushing furiously by now, but the blood loss from the wound on his side was helping him remain pale, a bit paler than usual actually, but right now the objective was getting to the top of the tunnel and back to Hogwarts alive so he could get back to bed on his room and probably eat something. When was the last time he had eaten? He had no idea.

"You are cute. Too bad I have to mess up that pretty face of yours." The girl said as she returned to her fighting stance. It was hard to tell if she was joking or not because of her grin and her mirth-filled eyes.

"Are you insane?" he said in a pompous tone "There is no way I am hitting a lady such as yourself, I am a gentleman after all."

The girl was clearly enjoying herself as she walked over to the spear and threw it in air with one foot; she caught it and spun it quickly around her body as she turned to face Harry.

"Show-off" he said, as he drew his wand again. He held it at his side, not really wanting to fight, he had lost some blood and his side was really starting to hurt now.

"Shut up and come here." She said. That was it, he had to think of some, non-lethal way to get out of the situation presenting itself or risk it. His brain was frantic and his hands were perspirating in anticipation.

He smiled again when a light bulb flicked on inside his mind.

Harry did a deep bow, "Your wish, is my command." With eyes closed and his head still lowered, he lifted his wand on his right hand to point at the ceiling, and whispered "Lumos Maxima".

They were both swallowed by an intensely bright flash of white light for a second and he heard a small "Oww". As Harry opened his eyes and looked up. He saw the vampire girl take a step back, covering her eyes with one hand as the right held the spear to the side, tip aimed far at his left.

He dashed forward and pressed his body against hers, placing his left hand above her right to keep the spear from him and circled her body with his right arm between the arm covering her eyes and her torso, wand aimed at the back of her head.

She opened her eyes to find her face a small distance from his, she was struck speechless at the face of her defeat or at the sudden proximity, Harry wasn't sure. Because after biting her lower lip for a second, a look of determination made its way into her face and she grabbed his shoulder, staring intensely into his eyes.

And he found himself absorbed. Their clear purple depths, the pure white surrounding them, the thin dark rings on the edge of the violet circles.

There was nothing but her, no sound but her breathing, no smell but hers, nothing but her face inches from his, and her body pressed against him, he didn't even register that she was covered in a metal casing.

They stood like that for a short while, before the lift suddenly stopped, signifying their arrival at the topmost level.

Partially snapping out of the trance Harry had been in, he grinned slyly again. "Looks like I win." He said, before he did the kind of thing he thought Sirius would do in a situation like this.

He closed his eyes and leaned forward that one inch left, pressing his lips to hers.

He felt her sudden intake of breath and after a moment he heard her moan and felt her kiss him back. His head was filling up with all sorts of ideas of what two teenagers could do while alone in the middle of the floating elevator of a secret underground city as the spear clattered on the floor and her hand flew towards his messy mass of hair. But the metallic gauntlet tapping his head helped him he pushed them back, and touched his wand to the back of her head as he broke the kiss to quickly mutter "Stupefy".

The girl fell unconscious in his arms and he opened his eyes to find her with a peaceful look on her face and her eyes closed. He deposited her gently on the ground and walked out of the platform.

That had been weird. He had kissed before, only one girl but still, this had been in a completely different level. It was like, he had been completely transfixed by her presence and he wasn't able to think of anything but her, he was sure he had felt something similar to that once before, but he couldn't remember where.

And the kiss! That had been amazing, just a soft and simple brush had caused every nerve of him to stand on edge and relax at the same time, the sensation of his lips touching hers had been awesome, addictive and, for some reason... tingly.

He could feel something on the place her lips had touched his, pressure or heat or something, he couldn't explain it.

He was walking across the chamber without paying much attention to his surroundings when he heard something. The sound completely sent him from his happy thoughts to the cold and dark place he was in. It sounded like people crawling, with rather long nails on the stone floor.

He was beginning to get a bit scared; he couldn't see anything but himself and his immediate surroundings. Scrunching his eyes he saw things moving in the darkness, or more likely, a big mass of something moving in the darkness.

"Lumos!" he yelled and instantly regretted it. All around him, coming out of the tunnels on the walls, were what looked like zombie-vampires. Half rotten flesh covered most of their bodies, bones exposed on some areas, quickly crawling in a circle around him and on the walls.

He realized he had walked right into a trap, thinking of kisses and pleasant, tingly sensations while all around him these things lurked, just beyond his sight. And it bit at his concience that he had absentmindedly dug his own grave, and his grave this would be, if he was still suited for a coffin rather than a set of plastic bags; he wasn't so sure judging by the nightmarish abominations scraping and scratching the dusty stone in a circle around him that extended further away than the light from his wand reached.

He was panicking and he knew it.

Get your shit together ,Harry! Vampire weaknesses: sunlight, fire, and what was that other thing? Never mind, sunlight and fire, Hermione used sunlight in first year didn't she?, what was that spell?

He got a glimpse of the eyes of the creatures all around him, they were dead, but they were filled with raw emotion. There was rage, that was the most evident one, but it was not directed at him, burning, screaming, all consuming fury shone through their undead eyes. They were bloodshot and they looked like they had remained open for far too long, layers on some parts had apparently dried off, leaving a rotten... mass... behind.

But it was not directed at him.

The reason was perhaps the unimaginable pain Harry could see in those eyes. And the most disturbing part was that it was just there, brutally chained down by some sort of magic, with no direction but itself, twisting madly into a terrifying vortex, all contained in those never-blinking eyes.

It scared the shit out of Harry.

He pitied these things with a passion, but their increasing numbers and the sight of the gate on the other side made sealed his determination. He shut his eyes and concentrated.

Okay, second best thing: fire."Incendio!" he screamed, moving his wand in a circle above his body. The spell, fueled by panic, turned his wand into an effective flame-thrower, and the fire created a circle around him.

The creatures were blasted back and some were scorched by the power behind the spell, Harry began running for the door, never interrupting the circular motion of his wand. He was almost there now.

All around him, the creatures were leaping at him, some getting blasted by the fire, some being dodged by him, still, every once in a while one would get a lucky shot and it's claws would cut wherever they reached. He saw one of them drop right in front of him and he broke the circle to point his wand at it. "Reducto!" the spell hit the thing with such force that it was split into two pieces, its legs were driven by its previous momentum but when hit by the spell, they twirled in the air and flew behind Harry. The upper half of its body was flung forward into the darkness.

He began his fiery ring again and he had taken two steps forward when he felt something cold and sharp scratch the back of his neck. He jumped forward in wild abandon as he pointed his wand over his shoulder for a moment to incinerate whatever had been behind him, and as he turned on the spot to look at what it was, he felt a number of cold, sharp, pointy things sink into his left ankle.

He let out a pained yelp as he looked down and found the upper body of the one he had blasted a second ago latched onto his leg as if it would save his life, its fangs buried into the flesh of his leg, blood seeping through its teeth and staining his jeans.

Blocking out what Harry was almost sure this meant, he pointed his wand at its head, "REDUCTO!" he roared. The abomination at his feet was blasted straight into Hell, his cranium imploding on itself then exploding becoming nothing more than a disgusting mass of rotting gore and a stain on everything ten feet from them. Blood and gore splattered him and he resisted the small urge to vomit.

He had been bitten by a vampire.

He knew what that meant, he would turn.

It was over.

No. This things were not vampires, they were corpses, inferi perhaps, but not vampires.

Another one dropped and Harry pointed his wand at it and failed to notice how it was blasted apart without him muttering an incantation or a spell leave his wand. These could not be vampires, but if they weren't, why was his leg on fire? Why did his leg feel like it was burning from the inside?

It was just some kind poison, it had to be.

The bite must have had cut his tendon, and standing on it was ridiculously painful, yeah, that was it.

He was almost at the gate when he was brought out of his mind by a stabbing pain in his right arm.

He looked down and he saw another creature, no, another one of the inferi, with its pointy teeth stuck to his wrist.

He looked around, the place was crawling with them, he had to do something quick or he would die. Curious how last time he had been certain he was about to die he had felt so ready to go, almost anxious to get to the other side, and now, he was desperately thinking back to his first year.

The creatures stopped. The one in his arm released him, and stepped back. Harry fell to his knees as his leg gave out.

He lay there for a minute, breathing hard and clutching his leg with his uninjured hand. Pushing the small hamster in the running wheel to its limit as he tried to comprehend what was going on and how he was going to get past the still-growing walls of dead meat all around him.

There was clapping coming from behind him, and the scratching of nails on ancient stone stopped at once.

"Bravo! Bravo!" an irritatingly amused voice spoke from the shadows "What an impressive display! I particularly enjoyed it when you so mercilessly executed the one on your leg, truly, a dramatic moment, I could literally feel the emotions!"

He was about to turn around and raise his wand, spell rolling from the tip of his tongue, when he felt someone step on his left ankle, rather hard. He couldn't hold back the grunt of pain that left his throat as the fire in his leg turned into white hot needles piercing his skin.

"You just don't give up, do you?" the voice behind him half asked, half taunted.

"It doesn't seem to fit me." Harry responded in a gruff voice, his throat was dry as dust and the burning pain from the bites was starting to flow into the rest of his body. He had to do something fast.

"Didn't your master mention something like, do not kill the guy who has just saved all our lives?" he asked the ungrateful vampire standing behind him.

"Yes, you caused quite a racket down there. But no human can leave this place, not one has in almost two centuries, and that is a rule I will not allow be violated." Harry considering making a cheeky comment of exactly what he would allow be violated; but then realized the meaning of the statement.

"Such a pity it was that I was not able to get here in time to stop my creations from tearing you into so many little shreds." He said with mock regret.

"But before that, it has been a while since I've had a proper snack." Then he felt someone pull his head back roughly by the hair and bite into his neck.

That did it, if he had doubted a second ago; he had now been bitten by an official vampire now.

He raised his wand over his shoulder until he felt it connect with what he hoped was someone's throat and gurgled, very unclearly "Reducto!"

He was rewarded with a shower of blood on his hair, neck, upper back and the side of his face as well as his right arm.

And of course the head that landed in the space in front of him.

He raised his wand and again gurgled, "Lumos Solem!" Bright, warm sunlight filled the room along with a hundred shrieks of pain from a hundred creeping creatures around him.

He kept the spell up as he rose shakily and pulled the door open as he stepped through; dropping it once he closed it behind him.

He was at the old church again. He needed to get back, he needed to get to Hogwarts before he bled out, and with the punctures all around him, he very much doubted that he had a long time before it happened.

Still, one didn't get to where he was right now by giving up or listening to the odds, no, you got here on being reckless and stubborn, and one hell of a lot of luck.

He had to get himself to the Leaky Cauldron, and before he knew it, he took a step forward and felt like he had fallen down a narrow tube, his surroundings disappeared from around him where they belonged. He crashed onto a woman with blue hair which quickly turned white as she was starled and then recognized him, shouting for help.

She handled him with care as they slowly dropped to the wooden floor and she muttered reassurances, promises of incoming aid and brighter days to come. Or at least that was what Harry imagined she was doing, as his vision was darkening and his focus slipped from between his fingers.

And then he was out like a light.


	5. Chapter 5

N: Shortest chapter ever.

Harry was burning.

"What is… Potter…"

"Oh God, HARRY!"

And a thousand bolts of electicity were running through his body.

"I've tried everything! ...not possible!"

"Stay with me Harry. Please."

"…can't be serious!"

It felt like he had been struck by lightning, somewhere around his neck.

"He'll make it. If anything, that boy is a survivor."

"Why isn't anything working? What happened?"

His limbs were not responding.

"Can't you break into his mind? See his memories or…something?"

"It's going to be all right, it's Harry we're talking about. Remember…"

He was being torn apart.

"I tried… not fully human… not completely turned…"

"What's wrong? …Remus?"

"What the hell happened to him?"

Tiny hooks were pulling at every inch of him.

"… become of him."

"`Ee was bitten?"

"Are you blind?"

He felt as if there was something white-hot stabbing his brain.

"Just don't see ze problem…"

"…to a monster…"

There was someone nearby.

"What iz zat supposed to meen?"

"Well, at least he looks better now."

He was sore all over.

"You understand this must be kept an absolute secret."

"… would never hurt anyone!"

"… has caused quite an upheaval between us, who like to consider ourselves his friends,"

It was getting better now, the pain was subsiding.

"… the news would create in the rest of the world?"

He was almost out of the pressing darkness.

"Yes, sir"

Harry James Potter opened his eyes, and saw everything.

AN: And yes, I listen to Metallica.


	6. Chapter 6

Everything was so clear. Harry could see every little detail on the ceiling that he normally would have had to stand a foot away to observe. This was how he noticed that he was not in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts; he was somewhere dark and old.

There was a rather delicious fragrance in the air; it smelled like strawberries, and a bit like roses, it was highly enticing.

There were some noises somewhere nearby, someone breathing really slowly and another sound like a pumping or a beating of some kind, he lifted himself up on his shoulders and looked around.

He was in his old room back at #12 Grimmauld Place, his godfather's old home, his prison, his own personal hell. He had been stuck in his old family's home for a whole year, maybe even more, surrounded by the memories of the people he had hated most. It was not that much of a surprise that he had taken the first chance to get out of there, getting himself killed.

Harry pushed those thoughts out of his head, wallowing in his own misery was not helping, and moping around was no different. He also felt guilty, he had been more thoughtful, more attentive of the situation, Sirius would probably be in the room, making some joke about him staying in bed for…

And then he wondered how long had he been out of it.

But it was not completely his fault, so he would do everything he could to make his godfather proud and he would make everyone else responsible pay, dearly.

He realized he hadn't asked Dumbledore about Bellatrix, he would have to do that next time he met with the old man.

He found the source of the noise, lying next on the other bed, apparently taking a nap, was Fleur Delacour.

She was incredibly beautiful, she was tall, but not much, maybe an inch taller than him; her body was curvaceous and well proportioned. Her skin was pale and looked so soft. Her hair was platinum blond, and seemed to exactly reach her waist.

She also was in no way related to Sirius or the Order as far as he knew, so he was wondering what she was doing in this place.

Harry got up from bed and got a good look around, his wand was resting on his bedside table and his trunk was at the foot of his bed. But the biggest surprise was to find his glasses sitting next to his wand, and very easily seeing the reflection of his lower body on the lenses.

He had thought for a moment that someone had done something to his glasses to allow him to see so perfectly or maybe being bitten by a vampire had improved his sight a bit more and so his glasses worked better on him, or something.

"Wait, what?"

And then he remembered.

And then he began connecting the dots.

He had been bitten, he had been infected.

That was why he could see everything without glasses. That was why he could hear Fleur breathing on the other side of the room and what he now realized must have been her heart beating. That was why he could smell her, and identify each scent separately.

He was bitten by a vampire and that meant that he, Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, had now turned, he had become a vampire.

He was not human, he was a creature.

And according to the rest of the world, he was now as good as a monster.

"You're wrong."

Harry turned in an instant to find Fleur wide awake, sitting on her bed, looking at him with a determined expression.

"Excuse me?" Harry said, not completely understanding what she had been referring to.

"You are not a monster, `Arry" she said.

Can she read minds? Harry was at a loss for what to answer to that. So he decided to ask the question in his mind.

"Did you read my mind?"

The girl laughed at this "Of course not, `Arry. Veela don't reed minds."

Well that's a relief. Harry thought as he relaxed. "Then how did you do that, I mean, you used the exact same words I had in my mind."

The part-veela looked pleased by the question, and launched into an explanation "Veela have some very powerful empathic abilities. Should the veela choose to develop these abilities, she would be capable of sensing someone's emotional state."

"And I suppose you are one of those veela?" he inquired curiously. As far as he knew, Fleur was just half a veela, or was it a quarter veela?

A grin spread across her face, "Yes I am."

"So… can you do the fire throwing thing as well?" he asked incredulously.

"Oui!" she answered proudly "Eet took a while but I `ave been learning some of the abilities zat veela are capable of."

Harry stored that bit of knowledge for later. He was still a bit confused about her presence.

"Not to be rude or anything. But what are you doing here, Fleur?"

"`Ere in this `ouse? Or `ere in your bedroom?" she asked, her voice seductive as she asked the last part.

Harry wondered how to react for a moment; surprisingly, he did not feel a blush in his face, so he decided to follow the "way of the marauder", also known as: padfoot your way to death.

"I was wondering what you were doing in the Order of the Phoenix headquarters. I would prefer to imagine what we did in my bedroom last night on my own, thank you." He said, looking at one point on the wall with dreamy eyes and a goofy grin.

This time she threw her head back as she laughed and brought a hand to cover her mouth as she tried to stifle her laughter.

"You `ave changed, `Arry!" She was still having trouble with controlling herself. "What `appened to the small boy who beat me in the Tri Wizard Tournament?"

Harry's eyes darkened a bit "He grew up." He offered her a weak smile to try to keep her from seeing the pain and loss that he had suffered, particularly this last week.

She immediately stopped laughing, her expression turning to one of comprehension and sadness.

"Yes, I `eard about your godfather." She said, her eyes not meeting his. "I am sorry."

"It's ok." He said, he was working hard to keep those emotions locked away in his mind. He would not wallow in self loathing and sorrow and whatnot, he would try his best to make Sirius and his father proud and he would continue his mission of fighting Voldemort's every move.

"So… what are you doing in the Order's headquarters?" he said, trying to break the awkward silence, "Are you an Order member now?"

Seizing the chance, she began explaining "Yes, I was approached by Professor Dumblydor and Madam Maxine just a few months after ze end of ze tournament; they explained a few zings and asked for my help." It was easy to see she was proud about that last fact.

"I don't suppose you could tell me exactly what they asked of you?" Harry hadn't been trusted with any information last time and look where that had gotten them; if Harry had known about Voldemort and his search for the prophecy…

A smile once more found its way to her angelic features, a thing which made Harry curious; he hadn't expected a yes for an answer. "Yes, I can." Then she regained her playfulness, "But I won't."

Harry was a bit dumbstruck by that "What? What do you mean you can but you won't?"

A slightly mischievous glint in her eyes, "It ees simple, `Arry, I am allowed to tell you but I will not. I thought you were smarter than that."

Harry was openly confused now; he took a deep breath and asked "Why?"

"Because you will find out soon enough. And eet ees amusing to see you confused." She said as if she was explaining the most obvious thing in the world.

Well, someone would tell him eventually, and for the moment that was good enough. So he moved on to the next issue at hand "If you are not here to tell me; what are you doing in my bedroom then?"

Her smile slowly left her face. Her sad and comprehensive expression returned. "Well…." She concentrated on a moment on how to say it.

"Yes…" he gently urged her on.

She looked straight into his eyes for a moment, and then seemed to find it; a determined look in her face, she said "You `ave been turned eento a vampire, `Arry."

He was again confused, what does that have to do with anything? "What?"

Fleur, using her veela empathy, sensed Harry's confusion and mistaking it for shock, she quickly got up and rushed to him, throwing her arms around him as she enveloped him in a tight hug.

Harry's mind was torn.

On one hand, Fleur's behavior had him completely puzzled, first she was nice and pleasant, then she went all sad; then mischievous and enjoyable, and now all comprehensive and concerned. Not that he was complaining about her ways of expressing concern.

That brought him to the other hand; he was very comfortably, and incredibly warmly, squeezed against Fleur Delacour and her ridiculously perfect body. Her body heat was like a sauna for him, a little surprised that he wasn't sweating all over the place in the extreme heat. And her scent! Strawberries and roses were everywhere, filling his nostrils, his lungs, making his brain swim; he could almost taste them. He could hear her heart beat and her breathing accelerate.

Before he knew it, he had his arms around her, one hand on her lower back and the other on her hair. He could feel her pounding heart send blood flowing through her veins; his mouth and throat were getting dry, he was getting really thirsty.

That snapped him out of it and he froze. His arms returned to his sides and he gently pried Fleur off.

She looked away from him and he noticed the deep blush on her face, her ragged breath and the speed of her heart. There was something different with her smell though, still strawberries and roses but much more solid, much more concentrated.

"Sorry" she said a little while later "I forgot your senses `ave just been enhanced." Her breathing was almost back to normal and her blush had receded to small pink spots on her cheeks.

"It's ok." He said. He had almost completely suppressed the thirst, and his lust.

After yet another awkward silence, Fleur remembered what she was supposed to be doing there "You `ave been turned into a vampire, `Arry." She said gently, looking at him intently. Probably searching for any sign of an incoming breakdown.

So she was quite surprised when he brushed it aside with a quick "I know that." And asked "But what happened? Why are you the one here?" hurriedly corrected "Not that I am complaining but I haven't seen you in a year and suddenly you are here trying to explain to me the fact that I am a vampire." And finally flopped down on the desk, with his hands joined behind his head and using them as a pillow against the wall.

Fleur was now confused.

She was also sporting a smug smile.

"So you are ok with it?" she asked, inches from breaking down in laughter again.

"Pretty much." He said, eyes closed "I knew what could happen when I decided to go there alone."

"Go where?" she had been told that Harry had been bitten, but no one had been able to tell her how or when or where.

"Go… it doesn't matter, not now anyway." Harry remembered the warning he had been given, but judging by the way things had ended, he doubted it still stood "So what was so funny?"

Fleur saw through his feeble attempt at changing the subject, but let it pass "`Eet ees just zat everyone was so sure zat you would be all bloodzirsty and confused. Most of zem were scared of beeing the one to tell you."

He was a bit offended by that "What?" they should know he was stronger than that "Why would they be afraid of me?"

She looked at him as if he was a particularly slow child "You are a newborn vampire, `Arry. Remember?"

"Of course I remember, the sound of your heart beating is a magnificent reminder you know?" he exasperatedly said "I mean, do they think I would become some kind of animal?"

"No, but newborn vampires are usually to thirsty and confused by their new abilities and bodies…"

"Hold on a sec." He interrupted, eyes flashing open and aiming at her with the first shock of the day "New body? What exactly do you mean by new body?"

Her answer was to get up and to grab a small hand mirror and held it out to him.

Harry took it without looking at it while he mentally prepared himself to see his huge, pale, demonic looking self. He took a deep breath and looked into it.

He was basically the same.

His muscles were a bit more defined and he was a bit paler, but he looked pretty much the same.

"That was dramatic." He said offhandedly.

She smiled as she made a show of looking him up and down appreciatively "I dare say you look absolutely dashing, Mr. Potter."

At that moment there was a knock on the door and a voice said "How's it going in there, Fleur?"

The smug smile reappeared on her face "I told zem you could handle it." She looked a bit relieved but her smug expression never left her face. He turned to look at him again "I would even say the new look suits you, `Arry."

"Why thank you, Fleur, it is always nice when somebody notices the lengths one takes to look his best." He replied with a grin.

"Let's get out zere before zey start zinking you ate me or something."

And with that, she turned on the spot and headed for the door, Harry following close behind as he noticed he was taller than her. Perhaps turning was better then he thought.

Perhaps, this time, doing something stupid had yielded positive results.

Fleur opened the door as the wave of sounds hit his ears. Ok, maybe nothing's perfect.


	7. Chapter 7

There were voices coming from almost everywhere. Apparently, someone in the top floor had lost his pants. A group of people down in the kitchen were greeting a newcomer they hadn't seen in a long time. There was a man singing "It's my life" on the shower, which Harry found very entertaining. There was something scratching the inside of the wall in front of him, must be a rat.

The more he focused on separating and recognizing each different sound, the more sounds he became aware of, and the louder each one grew.

Harry's ears had no trouble picking up everything within their superhuman range, but his brain was getting increasingly overwhelmed by the ever growing cacophony created by the domestic comings and goings of the people in Grimmauld Place.

His vision was swimming before his eyes as he covered his ears and tried to retreat back into the bedroom. Standing became an issue and he stumbled for a bit until Fleur caught him and steadied him.

"Just stop focusing on your heering, `Arry." She whispered in his ear. "Focus on something else, anything else."

Harry tried, but there was just so much noise. He tried to feel the clothes touching his body, Fleur's hand on his shoulder, her scent. Focusing on her presence seemed to be the best way to lock away all sound, so he did.

For the second time in that hour he lost himself in the wonder that was the French part veela standing next to him. Her scent was warming to him, filling his nose, slipping down his throat and traveling fast down towards his lungs. Focusing only on the sound of her heart beat and breathing was a bit harder, but he managed.

When everything was back to normal, he opened his eyes and found Fleur smiling at him.

"See? Everything ees all right." She said reassuringly.

Harry smiled and gave her a nod, "Yeah, thanks."

"Any time. Dangerous creatures like ourselves should stick together, don't you think?" she asked in mock seriousness.

"Of course." Come to think of it, they had contact with many magical creatures, Firenze with the centaurs, Hagrid with the giants, Lupin with the werewolves, Dobby for the house-elves, Fleur was a part veela so Harry wasn't very sure if she was in contact with the rest of them, he didn't even know where you could find veela.

And now he himself was a vampire, although he probably had made quite a negative first impression.

Again he was brought out of his thoughts by Fleur "Do you zink you could go down to ze kitchen?" she asked, dropping the mock and keeping the seriousness, "It will be loud in zere, maybe you should wait until you get accustomed to your senses before you start meeting people again."

He wasn't sure of how long had it been since the last time he had seen either Ron or Hermione; for him it had been like one day at the most, but who knew how much time had he been out of it on each occasion.

So he decided to lead with that question. "How long have I been out?" he asked the girl.

"Like two days"

"Not that bad…" he said and they went into thoughtful silence.

Two days was actually pretty good, in comparison with other times, not much would be new and it gave him time to think about telling his friends about his… condition or not telling them at all.

He knew Hermione would be frightened for a while but then she would overcome it and begin listing all the known facts about vampires and every other bit of information she had read about them and the book she got it from.

Ron was a completely different matter; he was from a pureblood family, so he had likely been told stories about the evil vampire who killed innocent young maidens, lived in dark, old and abandoned castle on top of a huge precipice, and had a knack for slicked-back hair, long overcoats and red capes. But he had also been a good friend although every time something unexpected, and totally not Harry's fault, happened he would abandon him; at least he always came back sooner or later.

Harry thought it was obvious that he was not that kind of vampire, for one, it would be impossible to get his hair under control; that was a natural law of the universe, right between gravity and Malfoy's unpleasantness.

He had no idea how Ron would react.

The rest of the guys were not as important, greatly appreciated, especially the twins, but he didn't share enough time with them for them to notice he was a vampire.

How would anyone notice?

He had no idea of what differences existed between a vampire and a normal human.

Obviously he would now need to drink blood; but how often? Would he be reduced to ashes with the slightest exposure to sunlight? Had Snape been a vampire all along? Would he be able to shoot lightning bolts out of his fingertips?

That would be awesome!

As mental pictures of himself on a hilltop shooting lightning at the sky rolled through his imagination, Fleur started speaking again.

"We should go straight to ze `eadmaster." She stated determinedly.

"What?" he had not exactly left on good terms with Dumbledore "Why?"

"Because `e will know what do." She said.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean zat `e will know `oo should be told of your being a vampire and what to do wiz your new abilities."

Lightning bolts and hilltops returned at once to his mind, but he shook them away. Fleur was walking away and he hastened to follow her through the old house.

"Abilities as in… throwing lightning out of my fingers or just really good hearing?" he asked as he caught up, sounding hopeful.

"No." she answered "I do not know what kinds of zings you will be capable of, but vampires are supposed to be very dangerous." She stated seriously.

"Supposed?" he asked, grin on his face.

Her grin matched his as she responed. "Well you are ze only one I `ave ever met, and you `ave not proved to be much of a zret, `Arry."

"Hey!" he said acting offended "I've been a vampire for an hour or less, what were you expecting from me?"

"Zat you would be devastated about how your life ees over and you are now a monster." She said, complete honesty in her tone "Or somezing like zat."

Harry thought she was asking him how he was so acceptant of his current predicament, he wasn't so sure, girls tended to say something and mean something completely different.

"I don't know why people think being different is such a bad thing." He said thoughtfully "And I really don't know how my life will change with this new… development." There would be changes, of that he had no doubt, but maybe some would be good. "If everyone finds out, at least those stupid people who wanted to meet the boy-who-lived will stay out of my way." He said with a brilliant smile.

Fleur stopped walking and looked at him as if confused. Harry realized this and stopped as well to turn and look at her.

She just stared at him like there was a puzzle to solve and Harry was an important piece of it.

"What?" he asked.

She took a moment before answering "Eet is no zing." She looked hesitant for a moment, but was eventually overcome with curiosity. "What were you trying to say?"

Harry figured she was referring ti him wanting people to stay away from him, so he explained "People have always treated me like some celebrity, in my first year at Hogwarts I was completely new in the wizarding world but everyone wanted to get to know me or be my friend; second year everyone thought I was the Heir of Slytherin and I was attacking muggle borns, it was amazing how I fell from national hero to public enemy in just a few weeks." Looking back, it was a rather pleasant time, except for those moments when he saw Ron's distrust for anything rumored t be dark, including his parseltongue ability.

"In my third year everyone loved me again and assured me they had believed me right from the start, that they didn't think I was evil even for a second. There were so many people trying to protect me from a threat I didn't even know existed because they thought it would be a good idea to hide the fact that I had a mass murderer of a godfather from me." He remembered the first time he met Sirius; that had been one eventful evening.

"Fourth year was quite the ride." He said, chuckling at the memory. "At the beginning it seemed like it was going to be my first normal year, then a death eater posing as a professor entered me into the Tournament, and I became an attention seeking little cheater and a mentally disturbed teenager with a death wish." Fleur looked down at her feet at that, she had been one of the many who thought he was a spoiled brat who couldn't get enough attention. "Not even my best friend talked to me, but after I won the first task, everybody loved me once again, and by the end of the year I was back at mentally disturbed attention seeker."

Somewhere in the depths his mind he wondered why was he being so open with Fleur, but he had already told her almost everything without revealing anything too secret, like being a parseltongue or Sirius's animagus form.

"And I am no seer but I can assure you that by the beginning of next year the papers and public figures are going to either give me their most sincere apologies or reveal they had known I was right all along, and both will be in a place with a very large crowd."

Fleur was staring at nothing in particular, looking half confused and half something else, probably shocked.

Harry decided to change the subject, he was getting anxious about learning how bad or good this was going to be.

"Where are we supposed to meet with Professor Dumbledore?" he asked.

The girl looked back at him "Sorry, what did you say?"

"I asked where we will be meeting Professor Dumbledore."

"`Ee `as been very busy lately, but I think `e is in ze library."

She began walking again, and again Harry followed.

She didn't say anything else on the way, and neither did Harry.

When they finally arrived at the library, they stepped inside and found the professor sitting in a cushioned seat, reading a letter and with a small pile of pieces of parchment sitting in his lap. He looked up when they entered and smiled at both of them.

"Harry" He gave him a nod, "good to see you up and running again; and thank you for leading him here, Mademoiselle Delacour."

Fleur understood her dismissal and left the room.

Harry was left alone with his headmaster, in what he considered was uncomfortable silence.

Dumbledore looked as calm as ever, Harry took it as a sign for him to begin talking.

"What is the plan now, sir?"

Dumbledore smiled, "You will find that many things have changed, Harry. Some will be discrete and easy to hide, but others will be more… evident."

Harry made a show of lifting his right arm and look at his muscles flex and relax, "Wearing long sleeves for a while should do the trick for this."

Dumbledore nodded, "Indeed." He sighed "Vampires are known for having some really powerful abilities, of these I know only a few."

This surprised the young man, the Headmaster was supposed to know everything; even if he didn't tell him, he always seemed to know what was going on with everything.

"That's a first." he said amused.

Dumbledore chuckled, "I am not as knowledgeable as some would make me seem."

Harry laughed a bit, but regained his seriousness and said "But what DO you know about them?"

Dumbledore took a moment to recollect his thoughts before answering "A vampire is basically a super human, every human capacity is highly advanced; they can see perfectly in the dark, have very sensitive hearing and have an excellent sense of smell."

He looked hesitant for just an instant before continuing, "Their brains are very fast, I believe you will find that no matter how fast things happen, it will never be too fast for you." He said, a twinkle in his eye "It should take a while for you to get used to your new physical strength and agility, but I don't believe it will be an unpleasant process."

Harry had been known to be thick headed at times, "I'm always up for a challenge." He said with a smile.

"That, you are, my young man." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, "I must say I am amazed at your acceptance of your condition."

Harry scratched the back of his neck "Yeah, I've been getting that a lot." He sighed before continuing, "I just figured, now I've got nothing to lose; and this doesn't have to be a bad thing, as you said, it may take a while but when I get used to this I will be more capable of avenging everyone."

He looked very seriously at him, "Power is a dangerous thing, Harry." His eyes were in soul piercing mode again.

Harry went silent, he hadn't thought of that. Power had made people go crazy before, it always did. Tom Riddle had gone as insane as one could go, his dream of being the greatest wizard ever had turned him into the monster he was now.

"I know." He said after some time "but I doubt physical power will be of much use to me, so I should be ok." Tell that to the Mr. spear first-think later and Hottest chick of the underworld.

Dumbledore looked concerned, but after a moment he regained his smile "Perhaps it will be just another challenge for you to overcome."

Harry returned his smile and waited for him to continue.

"But back to the matter at hand, not all of these changes are so convenient, Harry." He said, calm as ever "Sunlight is now lethal to you, exposure would reduce you to ashes in seconds, partial exposure would not kill you, unless it is your head that was partially exposed, injuring the brain or separating it from the head is still a way to kill you."

"No kidding." He muttered, it would be rather farfetched if he could live without a head; rather bothersome too.

Dumbledore continued as if he had heard nothing. "You have an accelerated regeneration system, so other than beheading, any injury will only be temporary and bothersome; however, losing blood is weakening for vampires, I have a theory about it if you would care to listen."

"Of course, sir." He quickly replied.

"Vampires need blood to survive, their bodies have lost the ability to process normal food, so they need something else to turn into energy and organic matter to repair themselves, just like we do with food." Apparently to prove his point, he materialized an apple and took a bite out of it.

"Understandable" Harry said to fill the silence as the headmaster swallowed.

"Those two are your new main weaknesses, silver or garlic are completely harmless by the way, although garlic can give you bad breath." He added for some humor, "Also, in the past, muggles watched as vampire who for whatever reason were exposed to sunlight were reduced to ashes and smoke; so they assumed that fire would also be deadly to them."

Wait, what?

"In truth, fire is as deadly to a vampire as it is for a human if not less, vampires have colder bodies than any other human, and they are very hard to heat up, thus it would take a while for a vampire's body to catch fire." He seems to know I used fire against them. "It would be foolish to use fire against them in a battle." He definitely knows; but how?

Harry just stared at him with a raised eyebrow.

Dumbledore seemed to take it as a sign of doubt. "There have been some legends about vampires who grew resistant to sunlight and fire, but I assure you it is only a way for some young men to excuse them losing a fistfight with a pale stranger to his friends."

"And what about all the legends about vampires with super abilities?" he asked. "Like the hypnosis or the teleportation?" he had read about them in muggle books but it was still worth a shot, besides, he hadn't given up on his lightning on a hilltop fantasy. "You know, the walking on the walls and ceiling thing."

Dumbledore took a couple of seconds to phrase his response, "Can I assume you are referring to something you read on a muggle fiction?"

How in the hell does he do that?

"Are you empathic too?" he asked.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, "I take it Mademoiselle Delacour has informed you of some of her skills." He smiled "No. I am a legimens, and you are easy to see through, Harry."

Legimens, Harry remembered something about that Legimency is the art of entering a mind and occlumency is the art of sealing your mind to emotions, sensations or external intrusion. Or something like that.

"I had Professor Snape attempt to teach you occlumency last year, but he refused to continue your lessons after the two of you had some sort of misunderstanding; am I correct?"

Harry nodded, but then a question arose inside his mind, "Wouldn't you know the answer to that question?" hadn't he just told him he could read minds?

Dumbledore seemed hesitant for a moment but then closed his mind for a second and answered "The mind of a vampire is extremely agile, as I have told you before, if a legimens tried to enter it, the difference between their mental velocities would not be pleasant for said legimens."

That sounded like a bonus "Unpleasant?" he inquired.

"Severe headache at first, but should he stay too long and become unable to leave, his brain would take extensive damage. He would probably die."

"So no more lessons with Snape?" he was having a hard time hiding his happiness at the prospect.

"Professor Snape, Harry." He corrected quietly, but Harry had no trouble hearing "And I believe you will have to learn, should Voldemort attempt to enter your mind again, he would immediately notice the difference and leave instantly, plus he would know the truth and know the easiest way to kill you."

Harry took a moment to process everything he had just learned about himself, and Dumbledore didn't bother him.

"So, what now?" he asked after a minute or two.

He looked confused, "What do you mean, Harry?"

Harry looked right into the eyes of the old wizard "I cannot go back to Hogwarts, can I? Not because of me being a… monster, but because we can't afford for the world to know of this just yet, but then, who already knows besides Fleur and you? And who else can I tell?"

Dumbledore looked at Harry thoughtfully "Professor McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey, and Ms. Granger saw you in the infirmary. Remus Lupin saw you when I brought you here."

"It is really up to you who you would like to tell, but I would advise you not to tell anyone other than those you fully trust."

Meaning: no one that doesn't already know. Great.

"And, I believe it has been your wish to join the Order for quite some time now?" he asked, looking a bit concerned.

No way.

"Yes sir." He said hesitantly. Could Dumbledore actually be giving him a chance to enter? He never gave him a chance to do anything.

Dumbledore took a deep breath before continuing, "Then I have something to ask of you."

It appeared as the beginning of an interesting summer. "What is it, sir?"

Dumbledore was evidently doing this against his better judgment. "You know that among the many things Voldemort has been doing this past year, raising an army has taken an important amount of his time." No surprises there. "What you don't know is that not only wizards are being recruited by the dark side."That's new. "In the past, Voldemort used a great number of creatures to bolster his ranks and expand his power, and not just dementors, but werewolves and giants, to name a few."

"And what have you been doing about it?"

"We have our own group of contacts within some magical creature species." The old man continued "I believe you already know Hagrid and Madame Maxine, due to their heritage, have agreed to visit the giants, but then you must also know the outcome of that; they will continue to look and visit giant settlements who would not follow Voldemort."

Harry stored that information for when he next met Hagrid.

"Does that mean that Lupin is your werewolf contact?"

"Yes, Remus has been unemployed and so has been able to live in many different werewolf communities; our plan is for him to earn their trust and be a link between Voldemort non-supporting werewolf groups in each community, thus creating a larger anti-Voldemort faction."

He was glad to know that his ex-professor was all right, he had missed the old werewolf, the last time he had seen him had been at the battle in the ministry. He wondered how he was doing now. But that was for later. Right now he was beginning to understand what Fleur had been doing in the Order's headquarters, and why had she been reconnecting with her veela heritage.

"So that is why you asked Fleur for her help." He asked the headmaster.

Dumbledore nodded again, "Yes, she has been most willing to assist us in that particular endeavor, it has taken almost a year but she has finally advanced on her veela skills enough so that she can start co-existing with other veela, she will begin looking for them this summer and, hopefully, by the end she will have found a significant group."

"How do veela live?" Harry asked "Do they live in the human society or do they have their own… er… nests?"

Dumbledore's smiled again "I am leaving the means of search and the settlement details to whoever is given the assignment."

It was easy to put the pieces together, there was a group of magical creatures within the Order, and each had the mission to act as spies within settlements of their own species. Fleur had refused to tell him because he would find out soon enough, and Dumbledore was letting him join the Order.

"I think we best keep my joining the Order a rather private matter." Harry murmured distractedly.

"Indeed." Dumbledore said, "We can't have everyone in the Order know you are a vampire."

"Tell me, Professor." Harry said amusedly. "Do you put much stock on first impressions?"

The old man looked years younger as he smiled, "Are you referring to the incident I am sure occurred when you last dropped by to visit the vampires?" he chuckled "Personally, I like to believe that first impressions are sorely overrated."

Harry let out a laugh "It's going to be one hell of a reunion, I better come up with a cool entrance." He looked over at Dumbledore, "Have you ever written speeches, Professor?"


	8. Chapter 8

**if you have any ideas to add to this story please pm me about them iv written a few chapters that i will publish later but any more ideas anyone?**

Here is the work of today and yesterday. Tell me my rights and wrongs.

And yes I know it is spelled phoenix, but my computer seems to have it spelled fenix in its dictionary and correcting it. Don't know why.

Harry had never given rain much thought, just water falling from above, no big deal. Right?

Wrong.

And not just wrong, more like completely retarded wrong.

Dumber-than-a-koala-bear wrong.

Rain was spectacular, a magnificent dance of light and water, for those who could see it.

Every falling drop was separate and unique; each one was clear as crystal, and sparkled like diamonds. Even when there was barely any light, each one had a small rainbow shooting out of it. Yet the most amazing thing was that he could observe and identify each drop separately and still contemplate the background, slowly being cleansed of dirt or any other impurity.

He pulled his arm behind him so that the apple in his hand was touching the back of his head and threw it forward.

The apple zoomed into the night, like an arrow out of a bow, destroying each small water orb in its trajectory, sending even tinnier drops flying around until smashed against the wall on another building.

It had been five days since he had woken up to his new life. He had not been allowed to see anyone other than Fleur or Professor Dumbledore yet; he had been told by Dumbledore to wait a week before he could go out of his room again, and he had forgotten to ask more questions about vampire powers he might have.

Of course he had begun sneaking out at night after fifty hours of being locked up in a room, testing his new skills, a bit surprised that he slept about half the time he used to do before, going through the window in his room and to the roof of the house.

It was amazing how easy it had been, putting aside the two minutes worth of hesitation, it had just been a matter of grabbing the railing on the outside of the window, placing his feet on the wall and pulling himself up. The first time he had flown about thirty feet over the roof, but the fall didn't seem to hurt him at all, thankfully, and now he had some more experience in measuring and controlling his strength.

Or at least he knew exactly how much strength he needed to jump over three stories using only his arms.

Still, he was confined to a rather small space; there was nothing on the roof, and his room was just too small to try out his abilities.

So today, under the cover of the rain, he was going on a small urban adventure.

He had waited till night fell so that he could come out and now he was standing at the roof of Grimmauld Place.

He turned from the spot where he had been standing, and walked over to the point where the roofs between numbers 12 and 13 connected. All the buildings on the block where of the exact same height, so there was a huge area for him to try out his abilities.

He was a bit unsure about it, what would happen if anyone saw him? Did the Statute of Secrecy still apply to him? He figured it should. But was he still counted as an underage wizard? Was he still capable of doing magic? Those were the questions he should have asked Dumbledore but had forgotten to do so.

And the most pressing concern: his thirst.

Ever since that time with Fleur, he had not felt any kind of biological necessity, he didn't need to eat, he didn't need to go to the bathroom, he didn't seem to need to take a bath, but most impressive, he didn't feel thirsty.

He thought vampires needed blood, his encounter with the vampire girl in the elevator of the underground city had proved that at the very least they liked it.

So why was he different?

It was true he seemed to stand out or be the one exception in most cases, but the only vampire who didn't need blood? Ridiculous.

Still, he was not exactly thrilled by the possibility of getting thirsty while he was out taking a stroll through muggle London.

But he had been stuck in a room for five days without hearing from anyone and now he was going for some fresh air.

Pushing his concerns to the back of his mind, he began walking until he was at the edge of the last roof of the block, overlooking the streets.

He could hear people talking all around him, but thankfully the rain was distracting enough so he wouldn't overcharge his hearing again.

He turned and sprang forth at a run, marveling at his velocity. At the speed he was going, the world should have been reduced to a blurry mess, but he could still see everything around him in perfect detail.

It was almost like flying, the wind rushed past him as he cut through the air, his hair was flying behind him, and moving that fast brought a sense of exhilaration and freedom unlike any he could recall at the moment.

He was caught up in the moment and slipped on the wet ground. He was surprised that he could still be clumsy; he had imagined vampirism took care of that. Wonder what would happen if Tonks was a vampire.

Because of the speed he had been moving at, his body slipped and proceeded to roll and bounce without control towards the other edge of the roof.

Again the world was in perfect detail, but this time it slowed down to a pace at which Harry could analyze everything around him. There was not enough space between him and the edge for him to stop his slippery travel, but the space between this roof and the roof on the other side of the street was about twenty five meters.

He twisted himself so he was vertical again, and used the foot he managed to bring down in time to push upwards.

He flew above the tops of the buildings, though the rain falling all around him, looking as the city lights expanded in every direction around him. Maybe I overdid it.

Up there he had a great chance of seeing where he was supposed to land and he had a long time to maneuver his body into a landing position. He landed standing up, bent his knees until his hands touched the floor in front of him and rolled forward, standing up at the end of the roll.

There was no pain, there was no stiffness, Harry was perfectly comfortable after doing such a feat. In fact, he wanted to try it again.

He stood up and walked to the edge to look down at the street he had just jumped over, it still looked like a long drop, but he wanted to jump down, he needed to see exactly what he was capable of.

So he did.

He gave a small hop and fell all the way to the floor. The wind rushed in his ears but that was it, there was nothing else. He had expected to feel blood rush to his head, or his stomach rise to his throat; but none of these came.

He saw the ground approach fast and tried to land standing up, just to see if his legs felt any kind of pain, vampire's healed very fast so even if he broke his legs he would just have to wait for a while before being able to jump back on top of the building, and because of the rain no one would be out on the street to see him. He could probably climb back up using only his arms.

He straightened his legs and the moment he reached the floor he landed perfectly on his feet, but he forgot to bend his legs at least a little so he bounced in his statuesque position a foot back into the air before landing again, almost losing his balance on the wet floor.

This is so awesome!

He looked around, searching for something else to do. The place was pretty much empty; there was a car on one side of the street and a dumpster on the sidewalk.

Looking up again, he realized he had jumped off a five story building, and the building on the opposite side, the block Grimmauld Place was on, was six stories high.

Analyzing his possibilities, he walked over to the car with a slightly crazed grin on his face. Standing right in front of it, he reached down to grab the front bumper with both hands and heaved.

He almost dropped the car in shock as he realized that lifting the car was just a bit harder than raising his fully packed Hogwarts trunk over his head, not that that was exactly easy.

His back was still hunched forward, so the car was in a diagonal position, with its front wheels about two feet from the pavement.

The car was dropped loudly and its alarm went off as Harry's hands flew from it and to his throat. There was a dry itchy sensation in the back of it. He looked around, there didn't seem to be anybody out there, and the rain covered every scent. So why was he thirsting then?

The car's anti-theft alarm was blaring away, the noise piercing Harry's skull, making it hard for him to think. If someone came out to look for the sound of the noise… he'd rather not think about it.

Lacking a better idea, he jumped into the wall on the building in front of him and grabbed on to a window ledge. Trying hard to use as little of his strength as possible, he jumped up again and again, from window to window until he reached the roof.

The dry itch grew in intensity, it felt as if someone was scratching the inside of his neck with pointy objects, it was starting to become painful.

He lifted his face up at the dark sky and opened his mouth, letting rain drops pour into his throat, but the cold rain did next to nothing to soothe his pain.

Abandoning his ditch effort, he looked around; trying to remember exactly where was the window to his room. They all look the same from up here!

The thirst was making him very impatient, and he was panicking, if a human came out, or if he entered the wrong window; he didn't want that on his conscience. The means for his alimentation were one thing he had chosen not to dwell on for too long.

He ran over to the edge he thought was above the main entrance to Grimmauld Place and jumped down without second thought.

This time his landing was better, it seemed his body remembered how to do things even if his mind was distracted. He bent his knees till one was touching the floor to land without making a sound and turned around to face the entrances to the many Grimmauld Places in the block.

Even from the middle of the street he could read the number on the wall, ten. He ran full speed at the door of number twelve and opened it slowly.

His breathing was still accelerated, but he didn't make a sound other than the rain drops that made it into the house. After he closed the door behind him he could once again hear everything inside the house.

As it was only natural, almost everyone was either asleep or sitting quietly in their rooms, almost.

Harry followed the sounds of cackling fire and slight humming into the kitchen; he had a good idea who was the one in there.

He crashed against the kitchen door, the wood creaking under the strength pg the momentum he had reached as he sped through the first floor, he was proven correct.

How does he do that?

Albus Dumbledore was sitting at the head of the kitchen table, smiling pleasantly at him, and there was an old cup filled to the brim with a dark red substance, three dark red jelly-like cubes lying next to it, each about the size of a pebble.

Before Harry even opened his mouth to speak, Dumbledore waved his wand and sent the cup floating slowly though the air at him.

The young vampire snatched it out of the air and looked at it for a moment, it would be the first time he drank blood.

He met Dumbledore's eyes for a moment before he turned his attention to the blood in his hand and downed it.

Blood poured into his mouth and down his throat. It was cold and tasted like salt, but he felt his thirst quenched in the most pleasant fashion and he felt very energetic all of a sudden, like an electric tingle running through his body, it was slightly arousing.

Harry lost himself in the sensation brought by the blood, and didn't look back up until there was not any left.

Dumbledore was still looking at him, patiently waiting for him to finish.

Harry dropped the cup back onto the table and tried to wipe the blood out of his face, dumb thing to do because his hands were bloodied as well. He groaned when he realized his mistake and went for a towel or something to clean his face.

Dumbledore waved his wand again and his hands were left spotless, a familiar tingle running through his skin where the magic had washed over it.

Both of them stood in complete silence, each one looking into the eyes of the other.

Harry wasn't sure what was he supposed to say, thanks for the blood? Sorry I escaped? I forgot to ask some questions last time? So instead he asked the first question that had come to his mind when he entered the kitchen.

"How do you do that?" he asked the headmaster. "I thought you couldn't use legimency on me anymore."

Dumbledore chuckled "Perhaps I shall tell you some day." Then his face grew serious again "Now you know." He said.

Yes, he did. Now he knew of the power, of the thirst. But there was more to know.

"Can I still do magic?" He asked.

Again Dumbledore seemed impressed by his capacity to accept something without so much trouble and jump into the next right away.

"Have you not tried that?" he inquired.

"How did you know…" That man was just good.

"When you get to my age, Harry, you will find that one picks things up with the years." He answered with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Just answer the first question then." Harry said exasperated.

Dumbledore smiled as he responded "Yes, in addition to the many things you have just discovered, you retain your magical ability." Go me! "You should have no problem with wand-magic, magical transportation should not present any more complications than those you already face, and brewing potions doesn't even require magic from the brewer so you remain as capable as always."

"What about brooms?" That was something he still wanted to do, even if he wasn't able to play for the house team any longer.

"A broom counts as a method for magical transportation."

"Oh." This was way too easy, sure there had to be some great weakness or near impossible to solve conflict looming upon him.

Oh, but there was.

He was supposed to return to the vampires to earn their trust and be a spy for the Order. How do you get on a vampire's good side? Harry did not know.

"How do I earn their trust, sir?" he asked the headmaster.

Dumbledore understood immediately "You will have to visit them from time to time, perhaps you can use the same reason you used for your last visit as an excuse."

Harry meditated that for a moment, the vampire lord-like guy had said he would be contacted, maybe he could show up and say he had grown impatient or the matter had turned more urgent.

"I could do that." He said simply.

Dumbledore nodded "After some time they will ask you to help them on something."

"What do you mean?" Please say: cooking and cleaning.

"Vampire settlements usually have some system to collect enough blood for all of them without attracting too much attention to themselves, they like to operate in the muggle world rather than the magical because there are many more muggle vampires than wizards or witches turned vampire, most likely you will be asked to assist them in this." Dumbledore said, "If you prove useful, they invite you to stay with them for as long as you do your job."

Sounds like I will be having a busy summer.

"Will I be returning to Private Drive?" he asked, not making an effort to hide his longing for a negative answer.

The old man closed his eyes for a minute before answering.

"No, Harry."

"But I…" Harry had almost jumped in protest, "Wait… Did you say no?" he asked hopefully.

"I have no plans to make you return to Privet Drive this summer."

Harry took a moment to rejoice in the good news.

He was finally going to be allowed to take place in the fight against Voldemort, as he should have since the beginning; he was loaded with all sort of super-human abilities and about to be sent into the field. And best of all: he would stay clear of the Dursley's for another year!

"So!" he was anxious to start his first assignment for the Order. "When can I leave for vampireville?" Still not sure if that was actually a city, but who cares?

His headmaster smiled, pleased with his eagerness to be of help, but for a moment uncertainty and doubt tainted his facial expression.

"Are you absolutely sure you are ready for an assignment this big?" he asked, giving him another chance to step down, "You could start by doing smaller missions for us, prepare for the bigger ones, like the one you are about to embark upon."

It took less than a second for Harry to answer his confirmation.

Harry had always been reckless and willing to go head-first into battles he had not started, even against a dragon. Perhaps he could come out on top like on every occasion before this one. The Headmaster decided he would just have to pray for his success and safe return.

He took in a deep breath before proceeding.

"The entire group will depart on the same date, there will be a meeting between all the members and myself where I will give you all further details on the mission."

"And when will this be?"

Dumbledore chuckled but said nothing.

Harry was about to repeat his question when the clicks of the many locks on the front door opening stopped him.

He concentrated on his hearing a bit and heard a set of heavy footsteps entering the house, followed by another, still heavy, but different; lighter? More… elegant? He couldn't say.

As the door closed on the entrance hall of Grimmauld Place, Dumbledore answered, "Seeing, or rather hearing, as the first guests have arrived, I say in an hour or two."

AN: In the next chapter the mission begins, Harry returns to the underground and discovers the results of his first contact with the vampires as well as some more facts about them.

Reviews are appreciated and a bit begged for.

Almost done with the re-editing.

I've got it all planned after that, if I have enough time you can expect the new chapters to start coming in by the end of the month.


	9. Chapter 9

Harry was walking towards the stairs as he exited the kitchen of Grimmauld Place.

That meeting had been quite the development, Lupin definitely seemed odd.

It was understandable that the man would be devastated, but why was he acting so strangely towards Harry?

His ex-defense professor had not even acknowledge his presence, only turning to look at him when Dumbledore asked him and Fleur to stay for a minute after everyone left.

Did he think it was his fault that Sirius died?

Maybe there really was a great conflict between vampires and werewolves, which had been raging on throughout the centuries, unnoticed by all but those who were a part of it.

Yeah, right.

He was probably grieving the loss of the last person he could have called family, he was bound to be devastated. He certainly looked devastated, his clothes were trashed, his demeanor was that of a broken man, and he smelled like hell.

He had tried not to dwell on it, but damn! That guy reeked of animal, alcohol, smoke and garbage. He had always looked like he had been in a fight with a pack of cats, but now he looked like he had been drunk and then severely trashed by the very angry pack of cats; clothes completely ruined, his hair was grey in places it shouldn't be for a man his age, and his demeanor was that of a beaten man.

Harry thought he would ask the werewolf what the problem was after the meeting but then Dumbledore had intervened and Remus had left pretty quickly. So now he would have to wait until they met again, probably in two months time, when they were scheduled to return to Headquarters to report.

Dumbledore had been very clear with that particular instruction.

Because of the headmaster's suspicion that some of them might be being watched not just by Death Eaters, but by other creatures like themselves, they were not to return or even approach #12 Grimmauld Place until after two months. They were also advised against communicating with each other.

Harry hadn't expected it would be that…intense? Dramatic? Never mind.

At least he had been a little lenient with Fleur and Harry. The two of them, being the two youngest members, and this being their first mission, had been allowed to keep in contact. In addition, they had been given the address of a probable safe house should they ever need it.

He hadn't asked Fleur what hers was, the part-Veela had waited for him after she had been dismissed and was now walking silently behind him, but his was apparently a temporarily abandoned apartment above a restaurant called Yo Sushi, not that far away from some Westminster Bridge, according to Dumbledore, that wasn't that far away from the clock tower he had seen, which turned out to be the Big Ben and Parliamentary building, again, according to Dumbledore.

How had the Dursleys managed to never take him to London?

Again he thought about the meeting he had just witnessed, he couldn't say he was a part of it, since he hadn't really said anything. The only time he had spoken at all had been after everyone else had left, when Dumbledore had asked him if he was totally sure this was what he truly wanted, and telling him it was not too late to back out.

Harry had assured him, even if he was no longer as sure of himself, that he could do it if he was given the chance.

Everyone else's tasks were already mapped out and a strategy had been drawn for each, except for him.

Hagrid had been as nice as always, ha and Madam Maxime had been the first to arrive, the half-giant had been a somewhat nervous at first, probably thinking Harry would be a wreck after losing his godfather, but after he had explained his theory of making him proud instead of mourning, the man had gotten busy with congratulating him for making it into the Order and supporting his idea.

"You can bet Sirius is proud of you, watching you become a young man and all." He had said.

While he had been working at Hogwarts, fulfilling his role as a teacher, Madame Maxime had been using her contacts to find giant settlements in France; they were supposed to go visit them in this upcoming summer break. As giants had an established procedure for first encounters, taking only a few days to send them a message, they would visit around four of these and spend the remainder of the time period pretending to be vacationing somewhere on the western region of the country.

Remus didn't have it so easy.

Apparently there were dozens of little camps around England, and of these he only would visit a few.

Unlike with giants, he would actually have to live among them, pretending to be desperate for a place to stay and live as an equal, for a number of weeks before he could move on to a different one.

During his stay, he was to talk to the werewolf population and find out their general opinion about working for Lord Voldemort, trying to at least plant the seed of doubt about Voldemort's intentions for them in their minds.

Hopefully some would resist, and when they did, he would be there to help someone rally them all, thus creating another faction working against the Dark Lord.

Harry was worried about him.

He wasn't taking Sirius' death in stride, and now he had an important task ahead of him.

Harry's mission couldn't be harder than his, since there was only one known location where vampires lived in the vicinity.

Fleur's assignment was a complete unknown; the only information gathered about veela settlements was the name of a small village in the north of France where veela were rumored to have been sighted frequently. She had the same story as Lupin, wayward part-veela, abandoned by all and wanting nothing more than to learn about herself and her kind and find a place where she could be understood.

Whether the other veela accepted her or not was up to them and the outcome of her mission hung upon their decision.

That probably was what she was thinking as they walked the short way from the kitchen door to the stairs; Harry's vampire brain was allowing him to process more information in a lesser amount of time.

He wondered how was he supposed to tackle his assignment.

He knew the where, the when, and the why. But he did not know who would be there when he returned to the underground city, having only met two vampires, and more importantly, the how.

How was he supposed to just get down there and become one of them?

Calm down, Harry. He mentally said to himself. You had an important conversation with their leader, you left on bad terms and with an appointment pending. Just go, smile, and pretend like there is nothing wrong anf you are just there to talk to the leader again.

Sounded like a good plan. Surely they would notice he had been turned and offer some kind of support. Right?

But you did kill one of them, remember? The helpful voice in his mind said. What are the chances he was an important one?

Well…

He was definitely screwed.

Harry was a bit surprised when he noticed he was climbing the third step of the first floor staircase. Agile mind indeed.

But as interesting as using his mental capacity to the fullest was, it still felt weird to be focused that much while walking and thinking of what to do about his friends.

So he decided to wait until he returned to his bedroom to start thinking what to do about the whole situation.

If he was lucky, he would arrive undisturbed at his room and just sit there thinking for a possible solution for his dilemma. And when he came up with an intelligent course of action, he would follow it and hope for the best; the next day was supposed to be his last day in headquarters and he hoped to have it all fixed up by then.

Of course, Harry's luck didn't have precisely the best record in existence. It would pop in on the most critical moments and completely abandon him to his fate at any other time.

And this didn't seem to be a sufficiently severe situation, as when he finally arrived at the landing his room was on, a bushy haired girl was leaning against the wall, right next to his door.

She appeared to be dozing off, her head was bobbing up and down as it slowly slid downwards or sideways and then jerked up suddenly while she struggled to stay awake.

For a minute, Harry considered slipping past her and into his room. But he could sense this was one of those things Hermione was determined on, so delaying her would be useless.

Fleur didn't notice anything was wrong until she bumped into Harry's back.

She looked up again and was about to ask him what the matter was, but was stopped by Harry rising a finger to his lips.

She looked curiously at him and he removed the finger from his lips to point at the half-asleep figure of Hermione.

The blond girl blinked a couple of times and scrunched her azure eyes, trying to see through the darkness; it must have been darker than Harry thought, his eyes could see everything clearly as if they were only under a shadow.

Fleur finally spotted the other girl and she smiled knowingly, but after a second she turned thoughtful again and looked at Harry.

"What are you planning to tell 'er?" she asked in a whisper.

He really had no idea, Fleur bumping into him had distracted him, but he figured he would just wake her up and think of something.

"I'm not so sure." He answered. "I'll just wake her up and see what happens."

He turned to Fleur, who nodded.

"Good night, Fleur."

"Good night, 'Arry." She replied, her voice a little downcast.

As Harry walked away, he began wondering.

Was this going to be the last time she saw her for the next two months, the next year?

She had been nothing if not supportive and kind to him; he figured he at least owed her a proper good-bye. But that was not the time or place for it, whispering and with a potentially volatile girl half asleep not really far away from them.

If they were to leave the next day, maybe they could meet up really early so they could get a chance to properly say good-bye. Yeah, that would work. He could wait for her out in the street so he would still be fulfilling Dumbledore's orders. Besides, it would only take a minute, no harm done.

Right?

Just as he was about to turn around however, he felt, and heard, Fleur take a quick step forward and reaching out to grab his shoulder, spinning him around.

"''Arry!" she whispered. "I need to speak wiz you." There was a peculiar look in her eyes, not desperate, not in any way urgent, just… peculiar. Still, it looked as if it was something that was important. Does she want to say good-bye as well? Why couldn't vampires have the skill to understand girls and identify her expressions?

Before he had a chance to formulate a response, the French part-veela continued.

"Can you meet wiz me in ze kitchen," She asked. "tomorrow at six in ze morning?"

Harry nodded, some confusion showing on his face.

Fleur's hand was still on his, Harry was in a good way perplexed to say, rather muscular shoulder. He didn't remember his build being like this yesterday; the change was small, not just defined but a bit more muscular, but even a human should notice it had one seen him before and after, or at least he hoped so. Harry was as tall as Fleur since his first day as a vampire, but either her shoes had had taller platforms that day or he had just grown about half an inch.

He was more confused about that than the unsure expression on the blonde's face, but was brought from his internal meditation on the probable cause of his 'growth spurt' when said blonde pulled him into a hug, nothing to tight or overwhelming as last time, just a friendly and… perhaps a touch… shy, hug?

The hug was brief, but Harry did have a chance to notice the effect hugging her back had brought upon girl.

Her body seemed almost tense until he hugged her back, she had relaxed and silently let out a breath Harry hadn't realized she had been holding in as she melted into the embrace before quickly letting go.

The small amount of confusion evident on Harry's face was exponentially increased by the time she offered him a smile and continued up the stairs, not another word spoken.

Again he wondered why God had decided to make women be so damn complicated and nearly impossible to understand. First she's all thoughtful and silent, then she goes all serious and urgent, and now that.

Why? Why, God, why?

This is becoming highly frustrating. He mentally stated.

He finished his musings before Fleur even disappeared from his sight.

Well at least I have the quick wits thing.

He watched her until she reached the end of the staircase, bent the corner and walk into the next one, vanishing from his eyes but not his ears, not his feet for that matter, as he could still feel the weak vibrations coming from the wooden floor generated by each step she took.

He turned around to Hermione.

Still where I left you, I see. He thought. Better get this over with.

He walked over to her and tentatively touched her arm.

"Hermione" he whispered, but the girl did not even stir.

Nothing.

Better try a new approach.

He poked her arm and called her name again, his lips an inch from her ear.

"Hermione!"

The girl jumped a bit as her sleep was rudely ended and opened her tired eyes, coming face to face with her best friend recently turned vampire, who had a grin slightly irritated, slightly amused expression on his face as he looked at her.

There was annoyance in her eyes, but Harry was greatly relieved to see there was not one bit of fear in them.

"Sorry" Harry said, his tone light, "I tried everything else but you just wouldn't wake up."

"Oh, ha, very funny, Harry." She snapped at him.

They stared at each other for a couple of seconds, their expressions slowly morphing into seriousness.

"We need to talk." She stated.

"Yeah," Harry agreed, this was going to be a long night. "Of more than you have in mind."

She didn't seem fazed, maybe she thought he was going to reveal the fact that he was a vampire, as if she didn't know that already.

"Let's go inside." He said, opening the door on her immediate right and motioning for her to go in with his other hand.

He was pleased to see Hermione did not hesitate for an instant about being alone with him; he liked to believe that meant she still trusted him not to kill her if stuck in a closed space together.

Harry followed her in and closed the door behind them.

He just knew it was going to take quite a while for Hermione to become satisfied of receiving information, and he didn't think he could lie to her.

Good thing I don't need that much sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

"So are you definitely a vampire?" The girl asked. According to books, vampire transformations took almost four days, depending on the victim's size and the amount of venom injected into the bloodstream, but apparently Harry had been out for around a week. Clearly something was wrong.

"Yep" he answered with a grin.

Hermione had already figured that much out, but still she hadn't expected for hearing him say it so… happily.

It was almost as if Harry did not know the dangers being a vampire would bring, so she decided to instruct him.

"But, Harry!" her friends had always been a bit slow, but this was dangerously approaching Ron's level of slowness, "How can you sound so excited about this?" she asked heatedly.

"Well…" the newborn vampire was interrupted before he could say any more than that.

"Vampires are feared by people, you are a hero to the country but how do you think people will react once this gets out?" Hermione wasn't always the most supportive person, preferring the more logical path; but this was an all time new. To actually remind him of his original fears… at least she wasn't cowering behind the couch clutching a crucifix.

"And how are you going to continue to fight you-know-who when you have got so many weaknesses?"

Something caught his attention at that. "When did you stop using his name?" he asked shocked, "We had made such great progress! Now we are going to have to start all over again." He said in fake disappointment, trying to to lighten the mood.

But making Hermione shut up once she was trying to reach full lecture mode was nearly impossible to accomplish.

"This isn't a time for jokes!" she reprimanded "How are you supposed to return to school?"

Not planning to. Hermione was being irritating.

"You will be kicked out of Gryffindor's team and what if someone tries to kill you?" what was up with Hermione that day? She did not seem to be in a good mood. "A Death Eater posing as anybody can just make a flash of sunlight and that would be it!" she snapped her fingers on the last word as if to emphasize her point.

And how am I supposed to answer a single question when you just won't keep your mouth closed for three seconds?

"And what about…" screw it.

"Hermione!" Harry interrupted the girl. "Finally." He murmured.

"First of: thank you very much for reminding me of every concern or fear I've had in the past week, really considerate of you." He said sarcastically.

"You've been awake an entire week?" more questions, yay…

Before she had another chance to start drilling at him for not going to see her before, he spoke up.

"Yes I have been," his voice was louder than necessary but he wanted to make sure he was not interrupted this time. "I woke up and I would have loved to go and make sure everyone who went to the ministry with me was alright and ask what the hell happened after we left, I don't remember much of it after Dumbledore arrived at the atrium. But Dumbledore ordered me to stay locked up in this very room until very recently, with almost no information whatsoever."

Hermione's annoyance had been slowly fading since some point around the middle of his small speech, she still looked somewhat pissed, since it had been a really short one but at least she had apparently understood that Harry would not let her enter lecture mode.

"Well there is not much to tell." She stated after a moment of silence, her face was deliberately turned away from him. "I woke up somewhere in the department of mysteries for a moment with Tonks and Mad-eye." Thank god! Hermione had finally started to make herself helpful. "They said something about Dumbledore before they noticed I was waking up. There was this awful ache in my chest, and they said that I had been hit with some darker variation of the fire-whip but that I would be ok in no time."

"You really had us worried for a minute." Harry said as he remembered the green flash he had thought for a moment had ended his friend's life.

"But thankfully there were no side effects, but they said I should not move too much and as I was trying to get away to check on the rest of us, the stunned me!" She exclaimed indignantly. "No warning, not even tried to talk to me, just stupefied me!"

Harry chose to remain silent at that, deciding to change the subject with another question.

"How are the others?" he asked.

His friend was brought out of her offended self "Everybody's fine, worrying about you of course, but otherwise fine." She said, "Ron was a bit shaken up from the brain-like thing attack, but he is ok now."

There was a moment of silence during which none of them looked at the other; both lost in thought about different matters, for Harry the matter was whether Hermione had told anyone else about him.

He could just ask her, but he was worried that she would get angry at him for not trusting her or doubting their friendship or something, maybe if he acted like he really didn't care about it, she would think it wasn't such a big deal.

"Hey" he said in "While we are on the Ron subject; how did he take the news?"

Hermione looked away, that's never a good sign, and quietly replied.

"He doesn't know" her voice not exactly above a whisper, "None of them know."

Having obtained what he wanted, he pressed to change the subject before there was an awkward silence.

"Where did you wake up after being stunned? Harry asked.

"Huh…" she replied distractedly, no doubt deep in thought, "Oh, in the Hospital Wing, back at Hogwarts."

Strange, he didn't remember seeing her there.

"Wasn't I there when you arrived?" he asked her.

She made an impatient noise. "I was unconscious, Harry, how am I supposed to know? But anyway you were there when I woke up again, just lying there, looking completely relaxed, and I couldn't figure out what had happened to you but I guessed, based on most of your prior 'visits' there, you were ok now and just needed some sleep."

"But then how come when I woke up the only one there was Dumbledore?" Harry asked the girl.

She looked a sheepishly at her shoes as she mumbled an answer. "I really wanted to go to the bathroom…"

Harry fell silent for a moment, before letting out a roaring laughter. Here was the so mature Hermione Granger, her plans trumped because she really had to go.

Harry had a hard time controlling his laughter. "And then I got hungry and I assumed you wouldn't wake up in the next few minutes so I… stop laughing at me!"

Harry had finally succumbed before the humor of the situation, he never expected an excuse like that from Hermione; she always seemed to be far too adult for those kinds of things.

Eventually the laughter died down, partly because of the growing murderous expression on his friend's face.

"Sorry" he said not looking sorry in the slightest, "It is just hard to believe something like that coming from you." Come to think of it, I can't use that excuse anymore

Hermione's expression did not change during the short moment it took Harry to ponder the realization he had lost that particular human ability. Not that he would ever complain about it, not having to eat or go to the bathroom would give him a lot of extra free time.

The grin left his face slowly before the girl's enraged eyes and he considered that further apologies were required, "I'm sorry, please proceed with your story."

Harry knew from past experiences that it would probably take a while for Hermione to drop her death-glare, so he let his mind wander while he waited.

One of his more pondered topics was the fact that she, being a frail human, should be afraid of him, a newborn vampire, not the other way around; also, he had noticed a few minutes before that he had grown again, he was slightly taller than Fleur now, that had been easy to notice, but he was surprised to see he looked even more muscular than before.

He was not completely sure of this, he had been wearing sweaters or any kind of long-sleeved shirts he could get his hands on ever since his first meeting with the old headmaster, today had been no exception and there was just a sweater protecting him from the cold, Harry had just chalked up the fact that he barely felt any of it even after getting himself soaked in the rain outside to 'vampire awesomeness'. But he had felt his arms through his clothes and they had felt slightly bigger, harder at least.

Harry was tempted to remove the sweater he was wearing to check his theory, but Hermione was still glaring at him and he was supposed to be sorry for interrupting her and frightfully waiting for her irritation to pass.

Then again, perhaps his physical changes were now considerable enough to make Hermione curious. One of the best ways to control Hermione was to make her curious about something, a hard thing to do since she seemed to know just about anything from everything; she would get a need for answers to her questions and whoever had them would have the girl eating out of his or her hand.

At least it's worth a shot. He thought, not very convinced.

He waited for about half a minute, so as to give her some more time to calm down, before he stood from the bed he had been sitting on throughout the conversation and walked over to his trunk, which was at the base of the other bed, the one with the girl sitting on it. He opened it and dug for a moment though the mass of clothes, books, school supplies, and anything else Harry had stashed there before pulling out a huge white t-shirt, one of Dudley's hand-me-downs, and removed his sweater and not too quickly donned on the severely oversized sleeping shirt.

Vampire awesomeness indeed.

He was distracted by the fact that there was almost no trace of malnourishment left on his upper body; he looked good, perhaps slightly more athletic than most of the guys in his year back at Hogwarts, his ribs were not even nearly as visible through his skin as they had been before, when he looked like one solid hit would be enough to break him in half.

But he was not distracted enough as to not notice the look on Hermione's face as the glare disappeared.

Harry watched in amusement as the girl's eyes shot open and mouth opened slightly, all thoughts of reprimand forgotten. His amusement grew even more as he saw a faint blush appeared on her cheeks but her gaze was not averted.

When he returned to his original sitting place, he pulled down the covers and sprawled himself face up over the mattress, his face turned so he could still look at Hermione and her shocked expression.

They just stared at each other for a couple of seconds until Harry decided to break the silence.

"What?" he asked innocently.

That snapped Hermione out of her trance, she shook her head and dropped her gaze to the floor, "You look…" the girl struggled for a word to describe his appearance, "… different."

Harry made a show of looking himself over before turning back to Hermione with an innocent expression, "I do, don't I?"

And before Hermione could say anything else, he added "But as much as I would like to sit here and play twenty questions with you, I have to get up early tomorrow morning, so I need to get some sleep now."

This placed Hermione in one of her dilemmas which were so very entertaining to watch. There were two, completely unrelated, yet highly interesting things she did not know, and there was only a short amount of time for questions left.

Harry smiled inwardly at his cleverness; he knew Hermione hated being rushed before she was done with something, and waste whatever time she had left demanding not to be rushed. She could be so predictable at times.

"What reason could you possibly have for getting up early tomorrow?" she demanded impatiently, hands on her hips and glare on her face.

Perhaps not so predictable after all.

He took a moment to think, he could just tell her the truth, but that would cause more concern and questions from her, he could lie and say it was a vampire thing, but she was probably too smart to be fooled by that. There had to be more options than that, but Hermione would notice if he took the sufficient amount of time to think of something.

Could he tell Hermione about his mission?

He knew she was trustworthy, but yet again, he had forgotten to ask whether he could tell people about it or not.

You really didn't think this through before, did you?

"Er…"

He was having a bit of trouble thinking what exactly to say. If it hadn't been for his mental superiority, he was sure Hermione would now be onto something, the girl was hard to fool. A mind with such a logical, reasonable thinking process was always hard to trick, but it was also easy to distract, taking his shirt off again would be too obvious, and he felt kind of dirty thinking about it. But there were still more ways to completely pull the figurative rug from under one's figurative feet.

An idea hit him and he immediately regretted what he was about to do.

As fast as he could move, which was seriously fast, he jumped up to his feet and pointed at the window, a look of complete shock on his eyes.

"What the…?"

It took a moment for Hermione to react, but when she did, she threw herself behind the side of the bed, sliding her body through the space between the wall and the mattress. By the time she came out again, wand clutched tightly in both hands and aiming everywhere, she was completely alone in the room.

"Harry?" she called uncertainly, not spotting him anywhere in the room.

It was then that she noticed the door was open, as was Harry's school trunk. On the floor between them was a single black shoe.

It took Hermione about a minute to figure out what had happened, and with a sigh, she stood up, straightened her clothes, and walked out of the room.

Harry entered the bathroom and immediately closed the door behind him, pressing his ear to it in order to hear what Hermione would do next. He knew it had been a bad idea to flee from the conversation; but what else could he have done? Telling her the truth would be disobeying orders, at least that's what he thought, and he couldn't tell her that he was not supposed to tell her, it would make her suspicious and he rather let Dumbledore come up with an excuse for his approaching absence.

What to do? What to do?

Sitting in toilet, he began planning out his night at the bathroom and following morning.

Step one: Do not leave your room.

Well that would have been useful a minute ago, but now he had to forget about it and think of something to do in the bathroom since his room was being stalked by a very inquisitive menace.

Or was it?

He stood up and once again pressed the side of his head against the cool wooden surface of the door. A few days ago he had noticed that the walls and doors to some rooms in the house seemed to be soundproof, so he had to press himself against walls, doors, or sometimes windows to listen what was going on.

He heard nothing for a few moments, but then he heard footsteps.

They were loud and clear, but they sounded like they were coming from just outside the door, the magic must be messing with the sounds outside. So he had to strain his ears in an attempt to get a better idea of where the sounds were coming from.

Yet it still sounded as if someone was walking right on the other side of the door, getting closer.

The thought that someone might actually be going to the bathroom did not occur to him until it was too late, his eyes widening in surprise as he rushed into motion. That is why when Albus Dumbledore turned the door knob and opened it, he found Harry sitting in on the toilet, lid raised and newspaper at hand, with his pants still on.

"Have you ever heard of knocking?" he asked indignantly as he covered as much of his figure as possible with the newspaper in his hands. Had he paid more attention, or maybe had had more time to come up with a good scenario, he could have noticed the fact that the The Prophet issue he was holding was upside-down.

Dumbledore stood there, undisturbed for a moment, then stepped back out and before closing the door, said "Whenever you are done, Harry, we have an issue to discuss."

He just stared at the door.

What the hell?

The Headmaster could be found disturbing if you didn't really know him that well.

Harry shrugged, threw the newspaper away and joined Dumbledore outside. The old man was playing with the end of his beard, twirling and curling the silvery hair.

He looked like the kind grandfather every kid wished he had. It was so different than the Dumbledore he had seen back in the Ministry Atrium that the thought made Harry chuckle.

Dumbledore turned away and began walking, motioning for him to follow.

As Harry walked behind him, past the door to his room and through the stairs, h wondered what Dumbledore could want from him at such a time, and how had he found him while he was hiding, again. Maybe he had some way to know exactly what was going on at any given place and time around the house. But how would that explain for him to have found him a few hours ago, he had been outside the house. And how did he know everything that happened around Harry back at Hogwarts? A house was one thing; but the entire castle? Not likely.

Maybe it was a more personal system, some magic on his person that kept him informed of his comings and goings? A tracking device? But electronics were supposed to go crazy around magic.

He would have to give the matter some serious thought later on.

Dumbledore walked across the wide first floor, and Harry followed into the kitchen.

It felt like he had gone a few hours back in time.

The scene was the same minus the old cup. There were more red jelly-things on the table than last time though.

The aged wizard was standing next to it, a conflicted look on his usually twinkling eyes.

Harry walked forward and sat down on a chair, giving his Headmaster time to think, maybe he had underestimated the seriousness of whatever it was that Dumbledore wanted to tell him.

Finally, Dumbledore sat down and looked into his eyes, closed his for a second, then began talking.

"Harry" he said "I am not sure if you know this, but Sirius left a will stored with the goblins at Gringotts a few months ago."

An unexpected heaviness descended upon his chest as he hurried to push the emotions out of his mind, sadness and grief and longing, and a chilling numbness, were somehow replaced by that pressure in his chest, squeezing his lungs and making it hard for him to breathe. But at least it was easier to ignore and enabled him to pay attention.

Dumbledore gave him a moment to collect himself before continuing.

"Now, the reading will not happen for another couple of weeks, but your Godfather did inform me about the one item that concerned all of us." A moment of silence. "Mr. Black left Number 12 to you, Harry."

"I…" Probably not the smartest thing Harry had ever said, but that time provoking vampires into fistfights had been even worse.

Harry became the silent one for a moment, wrapping his head around the idea that he now owned a house; the same house in which Sirius had been imprisoned in, slowly losing his mind and causing him to burst into action and get himself killed.

On the other hand, if he wasn't going back to the Dursleys every summer, he could use a place to stay of his own. Not that the Burrow was bad in any way, but he could never bring himself to impose on Mrs. and Mr. Weasley like that. Besides, there really weren't that many shadowy places for him to hide in without drawing suspicion during the daytime.

Unless I tell them about me…

There was still a lot for him to think about. He knew they would find out eventually, but the how and the when were still bothering him. It would hurt them if they found out before he told them; it would look like he didn't trust them. But he really had no idea how they would react if he told them. They were all raised wizards, taught to fear and look down on anyone or anything but wizards.

Point for completely freaked out family.

But they had always been kind and caring with him. They had treated him almost like family, maybe even like family, he couldn't know for sure, never having had one. But still, they had been great to him.

Point for comprehensive happy family.

Great… a tie. For now.

How long had he been staring at the wall in silence?

Harry shook his head clear and turned back at Dumbledore. The man didn't look impatient or otherwise annoyed in any way. What had they been talking about?

"Uh…"

Dumbledore was looking at him in a peculiar way.

"What?" Harry asked, trying to continue with whatever they had been talking about.

"This house is now yours, Harry." He continued. He must have thought I went into some kind of shock.

"I don't want it. The Order can keep using it as Headquarters."

He would probably be haunted by the ghost of his bored godfather, lurking the dust-filled halls of the ancient home.

"Well then," Dumbledore stopped him before he got too far away on that thought. "There is only a small test we have to realize to ensure that you are the rightful owner of our Headquarters."

That caught him unawares. "But, you just said…" was all he managed say, confusion sealing his lips.

"There is a small chance that enchantments were cast on the Ancestral Home of Black so that it could only be passed down inside the family." The old man replied, placing a certain emphasis on 'small'. "In which case it would go to the oldest living descendant of the Black Family…" he seemed almost reluctant to say the remainder of that sentence. And with good reason, if the fury that filled Harry as he muttered Bellatrix Lestrange was anything to go by.

"NO!" the young vampire exclaimed.

"Absolutely not!" he practically yelled "No way his home will go to the bitch who killed him!" probably the first time Harry ever cursed in that particular fashion, but acceptable given recent happenings.

Dumbledore placed a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to placate him before he got up and started throwing chairs around the kitchen, "Believe me, I do not wish for that to happen any more than you do, Harry; so there is just this simple thing you must do in order to find out whether it indeed belongs to you."

Harry could see it was not just a lie to keep him calm, so he decided to shut up and listen.

Confident that Harry would not jump to his feet and wreck the place, Dumbledore removed his hand from Harry's shoulder and continued, "If not, we shall take legal action and make sure it ends up in your possession."

"What do I have to do?" Harry asked immediately, always a man of action.

"If you are now the owner of Grimmauld Place, then you inherit everything in it." Dumbledore responded, "Not just silverware and some fine additions to your art collection but also…"

"Kreacher" Harry almost growled before Dumbledore finished.

In his eyes, the house elf was just as guilty as Snape for the death of Sirius. The wrinkled little pest was practically in league with the Death Eaters, and should be treated as one if anyone asked him.

"Precisely" was all his Headmaster managed to say before a loud crack filled the air and the object of their discussion materialized before them.


End file.
